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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

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IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/atollsofsunOOobriiala 


Photo  from  L.  Gauthier 

Nature's  mirror  showed  him  why  he  could  not  leave 


ATOLLS 
OF  THE  SUN 


BY 

FREDERICK  O'BRIEN 

Author  of  "Mystic  Isleb  of  the  South  Seas,"  "White  Shadows 
IN  THE  South  Seas,"  etc. 


WITH  MANY 

ILLUSTRATIONS 

FROM 

PAINTINGS,  DRAWINGS  AND  PHOTOGRAPHS 


LONDON 

HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON 

1922 


Copyright,  1922,  by 
The  Cbntuby  Co. 


FBINTKD  IN  V.   &  A. 


College 
Library 

50 


To  G 


762424 


FOREWORD 

"Atolls  of  the  Sun"  is  a  book  of  experiences,  impres- 
sions, and  dreams  in  the  strange  and  lonely  islands  of 
the  South  Seas.  It  does  not  aim  to  be  literal,  or  se- 
quential, though  everything  in  it  is  the  result  of  my 
wanderings  in  the  far  and  mysterious  recesses  of  the 
Pacific  Ocean. 

I  am  not  a  scientist  or  scholar,  and  can  relate  only 
what  I  saw  and  heard,  felt  and  imagined,  in  my  dwell- 
ing with  savage  and  singular  races  among  the  wonder- 
ful lagoons  of  the  coral  atolls,  and  poignant  valleys 
of  disregarded  islands. 

If  I  can  make  my  reader  see  and  feel  the  sad  and 
beautiful  guises  of  life  in  them,  and  the  secrets  of  a 
few  unusual  souls,  I  shall  be  satisfied.  The  thrills  of 
adventure  upon  the  sea  and  in  the  shadowy  glens,  the 
odors  of  rare  and  sweet  flowers,  the  memories  of  lov- 
able humans,  are  here  written  to  keep  them  alive  in  my 
heart,  and  to  share  them  with  my  friends. 

Life  is  not  real.  It  is  an  illusion,  a  screen  upon 
which  each  one  writes  the  reactions  upon  himself  of  his 
sensory  knowledge.  The  individual  is  the  moving 
camera,  and  what  he  calls  life  is  his  projection  of  the 
panorama  about  him — not  more  actual  than  the  figures 
and  storms  upon  the  cinema  screen.  In  this  book  I 
have  put  the  film  that  passed  through  my  mind  in  wild 
places,  and  among  natural  people. 


FOREWORD 

It  is  useless  to  look  to  find  in  the  South  Seas  what 
I  have  found.  It  is  there,  glowing  and  true,  and  yet, 
as  each  beholder  conjures  a  different  vision  of  the 
human  spectacle  about  him,  each  can  see  the  islands 
of  romance  only  by  the  lens  life  has  fitted  upon  his  soul. 

To  seek  a  replica  of  experience  or  scenes  is  to  spoil 
a  possession. 

If  this  book  has  interest,  one  may  read  and  laugli, 
be  entertained  or  repelled  with  thanks  that  one  can  sit 
at  ease,  and  watch  this  picture  made  on  another's  mind 
in  long  journeys  and  in  many  days  and  nights  of  hazard 
and  delight. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 

Leaving  Tahiti — The  sunset  over  Moorea — Bound  for 
the  Paumotu  Atolls — The  Schooner  Marara,  Flying 
Fish — Captain  Jean  Moet  and  others  aboard — 
Sighting  and  Landing  on  Niau      ....  3 

CHAPTER  n 

Meeting  with  Tommy  Eustace,  the  trader — Strange  soil 
of  the  atoll — A  bath  in  the  lagoon — Momuni,  the 
thirsty  bread  baker — Off  for  Anaa       ...        23 

CHAPTER  III 

Perilous  navigation — Curious  green  sky — Arrival  at 
Anaa — Religion  and  the  movies — Character  of  Pau- 
motuans  ........        40 

CHAPTER  IV 

The  copra  market — Dangerous  passage  to  shore  at 
Kaukura — Our  boat  overturns  in  the  pass — I  nar- 
rowly escape  death — Josephite  Missionaries — The 
deadly  nohu — The  himene  at  night  ...        68 

CHAPTER  V 

Captain  Moet  tells  of  Mapuhi,  the  great  Paumotuan — 
Kopcke  tells  about  women — Virginie's  jealousy — 
An  affrighting  waterspout — The  wrecked  ship — 
Landing  at  Takaroa      ......        80 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  VI 

Diffidence  of  Takaroans — Hiram  Mervin's  description  of 
the  cyclone — Teamo's  wonderful  swim — Mormon 
missionaries  from  America — I  take  a  bath   .  .        96 

CHAPTER  VII 

Breakfast  with  elders — The  great  Mapuhi  enters — He 
tells  of  San  Francisco — Of  prizefighters  and  Police 
gazettes — I  reside  with  Nohea — Robber  crabs — The 
cats  that  warred  and  caught  fish  .  .  .  .114 

CHAPTER  VIII 

I  meet  a  Seventh-Day  Adventist  missionary,  and  a  des- 
cendant of  a  mutineer  of  the  Bounty — They  tell  me 
the  story  of  Pitcaim  island — An  epic  of  isolation     135 

CHAPTER  IX 

The  fish  in  the  lagoon  and  sea — Giant  clams  and  fish 
that  poison — Hunting  the  devil-fish — Catching 
bonito — Snarling  turtles — Trepang  and  sea  cu- 
cumbers— The   mammoth   manta    .         .  .  .167 

CHAPTER  X 

Traders  and  divers  assembling  for  the  diving — A  story 
told  by  Llewellyn  at  night — The  mystery  of  Easter 
Island — Strangest  spot  in  the  world — Curious  stat- 
ues and  houses — Borrowed  wives — Arrival  of  Eng- 
lish girl — Tragedy  of  the  Meke  Meke  festival        .      175 

CHAPTER  XI 

Pearl  hunting  in  the  lagoon — Previous  methods  wasteful 
— Mapuhi  shows  me  the  wonders  of  the  lagoon — 
Marvelous  stories  of  sharks — Woman  who  lost  her 
arm — Shark  of  Samoa — Deacon  who  rode  a  shark 
a  half  hour — Eels  are  terrible  menace  .         .         .211 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XII 
History  of  the  pearl  hunger — Noted  jewels  of  past — ^I 
go  with  Nohea  to  the  diving — Beautiful  floor  of  the 
lagoon — Nohea  dives  many  times — Escapes  shark 
narrowly — Descends  148  feet — No  pearls  reward  us 
— Mandel  tells  of  culture  pearls   ....     230 

CHAPTER  XIII 

The  palace  of  the  governor  of  the  Marquesas  in  the  vale 
of  Atuona — Monsieur  L'Hermier  des  Plantes,  Ghost 
Girl,  Miss  Tail,  and  Song  of  the  Nightingale — 
Taptis  in  the  South  Seas — Strange  conventions  that 
regulate  life — A  South  Seas  Pankhurst — How 
women  won  their  freedom     .....     249 

CHAPTER  XIV 

Story  of  the  wondrous  pearls  planted  in  the  lagoon  of 
Pukapuka — Tepeva  a  Tepeva,  the  crippled  diver, 
tells  it — How  a  European  scientist  improved  on  na- 
ture— Tragedy  of  Patasy  and  Maurii — The  robbed 
coral  bank — Death  under  the  sea  .        ...        .         .      271 

CHAPTER  XV 

The  dismal  abode  of  the  Peyrals — Stark-white  daughter 

of  Peyral — Only  white  maiden  in  the  Marquesas — I 

hunt  wild  bulls — Peyral's   friendliness — I   visit  his 

house — He  strikes  me  and  threatens  to  kill  me — I 

'    go  armed — Explanation  of  the  bizarre  tragic  comedy     294 

CHAPTER  XVI 

In  the  valley  of  Vaitahu — With  Vanquished  Often  and 
Seventh  Man  He  Is  So  Angry  He  Wallows  in  the 
Mire — Worship  of  beauty  in  the  South  Seas — ^Like 
the  ancient  Greeks — Care  of  the  body — Prepara- 
tions for  a  belle's  d^but — Massage  as  a  cure  for  ills     319 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XVII 

Skilled  tattooers  of  Marquesas  Islands  a  generation  ago 
— Entire  bodies  covered  with  intricate  tattooed 
designs — The  foreigner  who  had  himself  tattooed 
to  win  the  favor  of  a  Marquesan  beauty — ^The  magic 
that  removed  the  markings  when  he  was  recalled  to 
his  former  life  in  England   .....     336 

CHAPTER  XVin 

A  fantastic  but  dying  language — The  Polynesian  or 
Maori  Tongue — Making  of  the  first  lexicons — 
Words  taken  from  other  languages — Decay  of  vo- 
cabularies with  decrease  of  population — Humors  and 
whimsicalities  of  the  dictionary  as  arranged  by  for- 
eigners ........     364j 

CHAPTER  XIX 

Tragic  Mademoiselle  Narbonne — Whom  shall  she  marry  ? 
— Dinner  at  the  home  of  Wilhelm  Lutz — The  Taua^ 
the  sorcerer — Lemoal  says  Narbonne  is  a  leper — I 
visit  the  Taiui — The  prophecy      ....     384? 

CHAPTER  XX 

Holy  Week — ^How  the  rum  was  saved  during  the  storm 
— An  Easter  Sunday  "Celebration" — The  Governor, 
Commissaire  Bauda  and  I  have  a  discussion — Paul 
Vernier,  the  Protestant  Pastor,  and  his  church — 
How  the  girls  of  the  Valley  imperilled  the  immortal 
souls  of  the  first  missionaries — Jimmy  Kekela,  his 
family — A  watch  from  Abraham  Lincoln        .         .     414 

!  CHAPTER  XXI 

Paul  Gauguin,  the  famous  French-Peruvian  Artist — A 
Rebel  against  the  society  that  rejected  him  while  he 
lived,  and  now  cherishes  his  paintings   .         .         .     439 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XXII 

Monsieur  Plnspecteur  des  Etablissements  Fran9ais  de 
I'Oceanie — How  the  school  house  was  inspected — I 
receive  my  conge — The  runaway  pigs — Mademoi- 
selle Narbonne  goes  with  Lutz  to  Papeete  to  be  mar- 
ried— Pere  Simeon,  about  whom  Robert  Louis  Steven- 
son  wrote     ........      460 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

McHenry  gets  a  caning — The  fear  of  the  dead — A  visit 

to  the  grave  of  Mapuhi — En  voyage   .         .         .     482 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Nature's  mirror  showed  him  why  he  could  not  leave  Frontispiece 

TACINO 


Map 

The  atoll  of  Niau 

The  anchorage  at  Tahauku.     Atuona  lies  just  around 

the  first  headland  to  the  right 
A  Paumotu  atoll  after  a  blow 
A  squall  approaching  Anaa  .... 
Picking  up   the   atoll   of  Anaa   from   the   deck   of   the 

schooner  Flying  Fish      ..... 
Canoes  and  cutters  at  atoll  of  Anaa,  Paumotu  Islands 
The  road  from  the  beach       ..... 
An  American  Josephite  missionary  and  his  wife,  and  their 

church  ......... 

Typical  and  primitive  native  hut,  Paumotu  Archipelag 
Copra  drying        ....... 

Atoll  of  Hikuera  after  the  cyclone 

The  wrecked  County  of  Roxburgh 

Mormon  elders  baptizing  in  the  lagoon  . 

Over  the  reef  in  a  canoe        ..... 

Robber-crab  ascending  tree  at  night.     One  of  the  few 

photographs  taken  of  the  marauder  in  action 
Where  the  Bounty  was  beached  and  burned 
The  church  on  Pitcairn  Island 
The  shores  of  Pitcairn  Island 
Spearing   fish 
A  canoe  on  the  lagoon  . 
Ready  for  the  fishing     . 
Spearing  fish  in  the  lagoon  . 
The  Captain  and  two  sailors  of  the  El  Dorado 
Beach  dancers  at  Tahiti       .... 


16 

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64 

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112 
113 

128 
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144 
145 
160 
161 
161 
176 
177 
192 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

After  the  bath  in  the  pool   ..... 

Old  cocoanut  trees         ...... 

The  dark  valley  of  Taaoa     ..... 

Launch  towing  canoes  to  diving  grounds  in  lagoon 
Divers  voyaging  in  Paumotu  atolls 

Ghost  Girl 

A  double   canoe    ....... 

A  young  palm  in  Atuona     ..... 

Atuona  valley  and  the  peak  of  Temetiu 
Malicious  Gossip,  Le  Brunnec,  and  his  wife,  At  Peace 
Exploding  Eggs  and  his  chums  packing  copra 
Frederick  O'Brien  and  Dr.  Malcolm  Douglas  at  home  in 

Tahiti 

Some  friends  in  my  valley    ..... 

Wash-day  in  the  stream  by  my  cabin   . 

Te  Ipu,  an  old  Marquesan  chief,  showing  tattooing 

The  famous  tattooed  leg  of  Queen  Vaikehu   . 

Tattooing  at  the  present  day       .... 

Easter  Islander  in  head-dress  and  with  dancing-wand 

My  tattooed  Marquesan  friend     .... 

The  author  with  his  friends  at  council  . 

House    of    governor    of    Paumotu    Islands.     Atoll    of 

Fakarava       ....... 

Nakohu,  Exploding  Eggs      ..... 

Haabuani,  the  sole  sculptor  of  Hiva-Oa 
The  coral  road  and  the  traders'  stores  . 
Scene  on  beach  a  few  miles  west  of  Papeete  . 
Tahiatini,  Many  Daughters,  the  little  leper  lass   . 
Fran9ois  Grelet,  the  Swiss,  of  Oomoa   . 
Brunneck,  the  boxer  and  diver       .... 

A  village  maid  in  Tahiti        ..... 

A  Samoan  maiden  of  high  caste   .... 

Throwing  spears  at  a  cocoanut  on  a  stake 

The  raised-up  atoll  of  Makatea   .... 

Paumotuans  on  a  heap  of  brain  coral  . 

Did  these  two  eat  Chocolat.''  ..... 

The  stonehenge  men  in  the  South  Seas  . 


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ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 


CHAPTER  I 

Leaving  Tahiti — The  sunset  over  Moorea — Bound  for  the  Paumotu 
Atolls — The  Schooner  Marara,  Flying  Fish — Captain  Jean  Moet  and 
others  aboard — Sighting  and  Landing  on  Niau. 

•'  Ik  YOUS  partons!  We  air  off— off  I"  shouted 
/  %/  Capitaine  Moet,  gaily,  as  the  Marara,  the 
•^  *  schooner  Flying  Fish,  shpped  through  the  nar- 
row, treacherous  pass  of  the  barrier  reef  of  Papeete 
Harbor.  "Mon  ami,  you  weel  by  'n'  by  say  dam  Moet 
for  take  you  to  ze  lies  Dangereuses.  You  air  goin' 
to  ze  worse  chmate  in  ze  sacre  mundo.  Eet  ees  hot 
and  ze  win'  blow  many  time  like  'urricane.  An'  you 
nevaire  wash,  because  ze  wataire  ees  salt  como 
se  o-c-ean." 

We  had  waited  for  a  wafting  breeze  all  afternoon, 
the  brown  crew  alert  to  raise  the  anchor  at  every  zephyr, 
but  it  was  almost  dark  when  we  were  clear  of  the  reef 
and,  with  all  sails  raised,  fair  on  our  voyage  to  the 
mysterious  atolls  of  the  Paumotu  Archipelago.  Often 
1  had  planned  that  pilgrimage  in  my  long  stay  in 
Tahiti.  At  the  Cercle  Bougainville,  the  business  club, 
where  the  pearl  and  shell  traders  and  the  copra  buyers 
drank  their  rum  and  Doctor  Funks,  I  had  heard  many 
stories  of  a  nature  in  these  Paumotus  strangely  dif- 
ferent of  aspect  from  all  other  parts  of  the  world,  of 


4  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

a  native  people  who  had  amazing  knowledge  of  the 
secrets  of  the  sea  and  its  inhabitants,  and  of  white 
dwellers  altered  by  residence  there  to  a  pattern  very 
contrary  from  other  whites.  For  scores  of  years  these 
traders  and  sailors  or  their  forerunners  had  played  all 
the  tricks  of  commerce  on  the  Paumotuans,  and  they 
laughed  reminiscently  over  them;  yet  they  hinted  of 
demons  there,  of  ghosts  that  soared  and  whistled,  and 
of  dancers  they  had  seen  transfixed  in  the  air.  What 
was  true  or  untrue  I  had  not  known;  nor  had  they,  I 
believed. 

Llewellyn,  the  Welsh-Tahitian  gentleman,  after 
four  or  five  glasses  of  Pernovd,  would  ask,  "Do  you 
know  why  the  Paumotus  are  unearthly?"  and  would 
answer  in  the  same  liquorish  breath,  "Because  they 
have  n't  any  earth  about  them.  They  're  all  white 
bones." 

Woronick,  the  Parisian  expert  in  pearls,  referred 
often  to  the  wonderful  jewel  he  had  bought  in  Takaroa 
from  a  Paumotuan,  and  the  fortune  he  had  made  on 
it. 

"That  pearl  was  made  by  God  and  fish  and  man, 
and  how  it  was  grown  and  Tepeva  a  Tepeva  got  it,  is 
a  something  to  learn ;  unique.  It  is  bizarre,  effrayant. 
I  will  not  recite  it  here,  for  you  must  go  to  Takaroa 
to  hear  it." 

And  Lying  Bill  and  Mc Henry,  in  a  score  of  vivid 
phrases,  told  of  the  cyclones  that  had  swept  entire 
populations  into  the  sea,  felled  the  trees  of  scores  of 
years'  growth,  and  left  the  bare  atoll  as  when  first  it 
emerged  from  the  depths. 

"I  knew  a  Dane  who  rode  over  Anaa  on  a  tree  like  a 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  5 

bloody  'orse  on  the  turf,"  said  Lying  Bill  to  me,  with 
a  frightening  bang  of  his  tumbler  on  the  table.''  'E  was 
caught  by  the  top  of  a  big  wave,  an'  away  'e  drove  from 
one  side  of  the  bleedin'  island  to  the  other,  and  come 
right  side  up.  A  bit  'urt  in  the  'ead,  'e  was,  but  able 
to  take  'is  bloomin'  oath  on  what  'appened." 

I  had  not  depended  on  these  raconteurs  for  a  vicari- 
ous understanding  of  the  Paumotus ;  for  I  had  read  and 
noted  all  that  I  could  find  in  books  and  calendars  about 
them,  but  yet  I  had  felt  that  these  unlettered  actors 
in  the  real  dramas  laid  there  gave  me  a  valid  picture. 
My  hopes  were  fixed  in  finding  in  spirit  what  they  saw 
only  materially. 

Moet  stood  by  the  wheel  until  we  cleared  the  waters 
where  the  lofty  bulk  of  the  island  confused  the 
winds,  and  I,  when  the  actions  of  the  sailors  in  shift- 
ing the  sails  with  his  repeated  orders  had  lost  newness, 
looked  with  some  anguish  at  that  sweet  land  I  was  leav- 
ing.    It  had  meant  so  much  to  me. 

A  poetic  mood  only  could  paint  the  swiftly  changing 
panorama  as  the  schooner  on  its  seaward  tacks  moved 
slowly  under  the  faint  vesper  breeze;  the  mood  of  a 
diarist  could  tell  how  "the  sun  setting  behind  Moorea  in 
a  brilliant  saffron  sky,  splashed  with  small  golden  and 
mauve-colored  clouds,  threw  boldly  forward  in  a  clear- 
cut,  opaque  purple  mass  that  fantastically  pinnacled 
island,  near  the  summit  of  whose  highest  peak  there 
glittered,  star-like,  a  speck  of  light — the  sky  seen 
through  a  hole  pierced  in  the  mountain.  How  in  the 
sea,  smooth  as  a  mirror,  within  the  reef,  and  here  and 
there  to  seaward,  blue  ruffled  by  a  catspaw,  away  to  the 
horizon  was  reflected  the  saffron  hue  from  above;  how 


6  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

against  purple  Moorea  a  cocoa-crowned  islet  in  the 
harbor  appeared  olive-green — a  gem  set  in  the  yellow 
water.  How  the  sunlight  left  the  vivid  green  shore  of 
palm-fringed  Tahiti,  and  stole  upward  till  only  the 
highest  ridges  and  precipices  were  illuminated  with 
strange  pink  and  violet  tints  springing  straight  from 
the  mysterious  depth  of  dark-blue  shadow.  How  from 
the  loftiest  crags  there  floated  a  long  streamer  cloud — 
the  cloud-banner  of  Tyndal.  Then,  as  the  sun  sank 
lower  and  lower,  the  saffron  of  the  sky  paled  to  the  tur- 
quoise-blue of  a  brief  tropical  twihght,  the  cloud-ban- 
ner melted  and  vanished,  and  the  whole  color  deepened 
and  went  out  in  the  sudden  darkness  of  the  night." 

If  one  must  say  farewell  to  Tahiti,  let  it  be  in  the 
evening,  in  the  tender  hues  of  the  sunset,  the  effacing 
shadows  of  the  sinking  orb  in  sympathy  with  the  day's 
tasks  done;  the  screen  of  night  being  drawn  amid  flam- 
ing, dying  lights  across  a  workaday  world,  the  dream 
pictures  of  the  Supreme  Artist  appearing  and  fainting 
in  the  purpling  heavens.  I  was  leaving  people  and 
scenes  that  had  taught  me  a  new  path  in  life,  or,  at 
least,  had  hung  lamps  to  guide  my  feet  in  an  apprecia- 
tion of  values  before  unknown  to  me. 

I  came  back  to  the  deck  of  the  schooner  with  Moet's 
call  for  a  steersman,  and  his  invitation  to  go  below  for 
food  and  drink.  I  refused  despite  his  "Sapristi!  Eef 
you  no  eat  by 'n' by  you  cannot  drink!"  and  when  he 
disappeared  down  the  companion-ladder  I  climbed  to 
the  roof  of  the  low  cabin.  The  moon  was  now  high — • 
a  plate  of  glowing  gold  in  an  indigo  ceiling.  The  swell- 
ing sea  rocked  the  vessel  and  now  and  then  lifted  her 
sharp  prow  out  of  the  water  and  struck  it  a  blow  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  7 

friendship  as  it  rejoined  it.  I  unrolled  a  straw  mat, 
and,  placing  it  well  aft  so  that  the  jibing  boom  would 
not  touch  me,  lay  upon  my  back,  and  visioned  the  pro- 
digious world  I  was  seeking.  The  very  names  given 
by  discoverers  were  suggestive  of  extravagant  adven- 
ture. The  Half-drowned  Islands,  the  Low  Archi- 
pelago, the  Dangerous  Isles,  the  Pernicious  Islands, 
were  the  titles  of  the  early  mariners.  For  three  hundred 
years  the  Paumotus  had  been  dimly  known  on  the 
charts  as  set  in  the  most  perilous  sea  in  all  the  round  of 
the  globe.  I  had  read  that  they  were  more  hazardous 
than  any  other  shores,  as  they  were  more  singular  in 
form.  They  had  excited  the  wonder  of  learned  men 
and  laymen  by  even  the  scant  depiction  of  their  astound- 
ing appearance.  For  decades  after  the  eyes  of  a  Euro- 
pean glimpsed  them  they  were  thought  by  many  book- 
ish men  to  be  as  fabulous  as  Atlantis  or  Micomicon; 
too  chimerical  to  exist,  though  witches  then  were  a 
surety,  and  hell  a  burning  reality. 

I  fell  asleep,  and  as  during  the  night  the  wind  shifted 
and  with  it  the  schooner  veered,  I  had  but  a  precarious 
hold  upon  the  mat  and  was  several  times  stood  on  my 
feet  in  the  narrow  passageway.  The  dream  jinn  seized 
these  shiftings  and  twistings,  the  shouts  of  the  mate 
in  charge,  the  chants  of  the  sailors  at  work,  the  whistle 
of  the  wind  through  the  cordage,  and  wove  them  into 
fantasies, — ecstasies  or  nightmares, — and  thus  warded 
off  my  waking. 

But  the  sun,  roused  from  his  slumber  beneath  the  dip 
of  the  sphere,  could  be  put  off  with  no  fine  frenzies. 
When  even  half  above  the  dipping  horizon  his  beams 
opened  my  eyes  as  if  a  furnace  door  had  been  flung 


8  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

wide,  and  I  turned  over  to  see  my  hard  couch  occu- 
pied by  others.  Beside  me  was  McHenry,  next  to  him 
Moet,  and  furthest,  the  one  white  woman  aboard,  the 
captain's  wife.  We  yawned  in  unison;  and,  with  a 
quick,  accustomed  movement,  she  dropped  below.  The 
day  had  begun  on  the  schooner. 

The  Marara  was  once  a  French  gunboat  of  these  seas 
when  cannons  were  needed  to  prevent  dishonor  to  the 
tricolor  by  failure  to  obey  French  discipline,  while 
France  was  making  good  colonists  or  corpses  of  all 
peoples  hereabout.  She  was  the  very  pattern  of  the 
rakish  craft  in  which  the  blackbirders  and  pirates  sailed 
this  ocean  for  generations — built  for  speed,  for  enter- 
ing threatening  passes,  for  stealing  silently  away  under 
giant  sweeps,  and  for  handling  by  a  small  number  of 
strong  and  fearless  men.  The  bitts  on  the  poop  were 
still  marked  by  the  gun  emplacements,  and  the  rail 
about  the  stern  was  but  two  feet  high. 

Now  her  owners  were  a  company  of  Tahiti  Euro- 
peans who,  trusting  largely  to  the  seamanship  and  busi- 
ness shrewdness  of  her  master,  despatched  her  every 
few  weeks  or  months  on  voyages  about  the  French  is- 
lands within  a  thousand  miles  or  so  to  sell  the  natives 
all  they  would  buy,  and  to  get  from  them  at  the  least 
cost  the  copra,  shells,  and  pearls  which  were  virtually 
the  sole  products  of  these  islands. 

The  cabin  was  one  room,  stuffy  and  hot,  and  mal- 
odorous of  decades  of  cargo.  A  small  table  in  the 
center  for  dining  was  alone  free  from  shelves  and  boxes 
holding  merchandise,  which  was  displayed  as  in  a  coun- 
try store.  Besides  all  kinds  of  articles  salable  to  a 
primitive  people,  there  were  foods  in  barrels,  boxes, 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  9 

tins,  and  glass,  for  whites  and  for  educated  native 
palates. 

Jean  Moet,  the  commander  of  the  Marara,  was  of  the 
type  of  French  sailor  encountered  in  the  Mediterranean, 
and  especially  about  Marseilles  and  Spanish  ports. 
He  had  a  slight  person,  with  hair  and  moustache  black 
as  the  stones  of  Papenoo  beach — nervous,  excitable, 
moving  incessantly,  gesturing  with  every  word. 
Twenty-eight  of  his  forty  years  had  been  passed  in 
ships.  He  had  visited  the  lie  du  Diahle,  and  had  seen 
Dreyfus  there;  he  chattered  of  New  York,  Senegal, 
Yokohama,  Cayenne,  was  full  of  French  ocean  oaths, 
breaking  into  English  or  Spanish  to  enlighten  me  or 
press  a  point,  singing  a  Parisian  music-hall  chanson- 
cite,  or  a  Spanish  cancioncita.  His  language  was  a 
curious  hodge-podge  bespeaking  the  wanderings  of  the 
man  and  his  intensely  mercurial  temperament. 

His  wife,  who  sailed  with  him  on  all  voyages  since 
their  marriage  five  years  before,  was  his  opposite — large- 
boned  and  heavy,  like  a  Millet  peasant,  looking  at  her 
brilliant  husband  as  a  wistful  cow  at  her  master,  but 
not  fearing  to  caution  him  against  extravagance  in 
stimulant  or  money.  Her  life  had  begun  in  Tahiti, 
and  she  had  always  been  there  until  the  dashing  son  of 
the  Midi  had  lifted  her  from  the  house  of  her  father — 
a  petty  official — to  the  deck  of  the  Flying  Fish.  She 
was  a  housekeeper  and  accountant. 

She  paid  especial  attention  to  the  shelves  of  pain- 
killers, cough  cures,  perunas,  bitters  and  medical  dis- 
coveries from  America,  which,  in  islands  where  all  al- 
coholic liquors  were  forbidden  to  the  aborigines,  sold 
readily  to  all  who  sickened  for  them.     Moet  was  affec- 


10  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

tionate  but  stern  toward  Virginie,  the  wife,  and  talked 
to  her  as  does  a  kind  but  wise  master  to  a  trained  seal. 

For  breakfast,  the  captain,  Madame  Moet,  McHenry, 
and  I  had  canned  sardines,  canned  hash  from  Chicago, 
California  olives,  canned  pineapple  from  Hawaii,  and 
red  wine  from  Bordeaux. 

Virginie  explained  in  Tahitian  French  that  Jean  had 
forgotten  to  get  aboard  stores  of  fresh  food.  He  had 
been  at  the  Cercle  Bougainville  until  we  had  gone 
aboard,  she  said  caustically.  Jean  put  his  arm  about 
her  fat  waist. 

"Mais,  dar-leeng,"  he  said,  soothingly,  "tais-toir 
And  then  to  me,  "We  are  camarades,  ma  femme  y  mi, 
companeros  buenos.  Ma  wife  she  wash  ze  linge.  That 
good,  eh?  Amerique  ze  woman  got  boss  hand  now. 
Diable!  C'est  rottan!  Hombre,  ze  wife  ees  for  ze 
cuisine,  and  ze  babee." 

He  pressed  her  middle,  and  advised  her  to  clear  up 
the  table  while  we  went  on  deck  for  a  smoke. 

He  became  confidential  with  me  after  a  pousse  cafe 
or  two. 

"We  faire  ze  chose  economique,  Virginie  y  mi,"  he 
said.  "Maybee  som'  day  we  weesh  avoir  leetle  farm 
en  France.  En  verite,  mon  ami,  I  forget  ze  \3egetable 
an'  ze  meat  because  I  beat  McHenry  at  ecarte  in  ze 
Cercle  Bougainville,  jus'  avant  we  go  'way  from  Pa- 
peete. I  nevaire  play  ze  carte  on  ze  schoonaire! 
Jamais  de  la  vie!" 

The  captain  had  aboard  a  brown  pup,  a  mongrel  he 
had  found  in  the  Marquesas  Islands.  He  had  named 
him  Chocolat,  and  passed  hours  each  day  in  teaching 
him  tricks — to  lie  down  and  sit  up  at  command,  to 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  11 

stand  and  to  bark.  The  dog  liked  to  run  over  the 
roof  of  the  cabin  and  to  crouch  upon  the  low  rail  at  the 
stern.  As  any  roll  or  pitch  of  the  vessel  might  toss 
hini  into  the  ocean,  I  feared  for  his  longevity,  but 
Chocolat — pronounced  by  Moet  "Shockolah" — was  able 
to  fall  inboard  whenever  the  motion  jeopardized  his 
safety. 

"Eh,  petit  chien"  Jean  Moet  would  cry,  when  Choc- 
olat skated  down  the  inclined  deck  into  the  scuppers, 
or  hung  for  a  moment  indecisively  on  the  rail,  "you 
by  'n'  by  goin'-a  be  eat  by  ze  requin.  Ze  big  shark 
getta  you,  perrillo,  an'  you  forget  all  my  teach  you,  mi 
querido!" 

He  whipped  Chocolat  many  times  a  day,  when  the 
puppy  let  down  from  "attention"  before  told,  or  when 
he  attacked  his  food  before  a  certain  whistled  note. 

"What  will  you  do  with  him  when  his  education  is 
complete?"  I  asked  Moet. 

"When  he  ees  educate,  hein?  He  will  be  like  ze  sair- 
cuss  animal.  One  year  old,  maybe,  he  make  turnover, 
fight  ze  bocce,  drink  wine,  an',  puedeser,  he  talk  leetle. 
Zen  I  sell  heem  some  tourist,  some  crazee  Americain  who 
zink  he  do  for  heem  like  me.  I  sharge  five  hunder 
franc." 

McHenry,  who  kicked  Chocolat  whenever  he  had  an 
opportunity  unseen,  ridiculed  Moet's  dream  of  gain. 

"You  will  like  hell  I"  said  McHenry.  "When  j^ou  've 
got  the  dirty  little  bastard  sayin',  'Good  mornin','  nice 
an'  proper,  he  '11  sneak  ashore  in  some  boat-load  o' 
truck,  an'  some  Paumotuan  '11  hotpot  him.  Wait  till 
he  's  fat!     You*  know  what  they  '11  do  for  fresh  meat." 

"Non,  non!"  answered  the  captain,  angrily.     "I  am 


12  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

not  afraid  of  zat.  I  teach  heem  I  keel  heem  he  go  in 
boat,  but  maybe  you  take  heem  an'  sell  heem  on  ze 
quiet,  McHenry." 

The  small,  cold  eyes  of  McHenry  gleamed,  and  a 
queer  smile  twisted  his  mouth. 

"Well,  keep  him  from  under  my  feet!"  he  warned, 
and  laughed  at  some  thought  now  fully  formed  in  his 
mind.     I  could  see  it  squirming  in  his  small  brain. 

McHenry  was  as  rollicking  a  rascal  as  I  kne\Y  in  all 
the  South  Seas.  He  was  bitter  and  yet  had  a  flavor  of 
real  himior  at  odd  times.  Without  schooling  except  that 
of  a  wharf -rat  in  Liverpool,  New  York,  and  San  Fran- 
cisco, he  had  come  into  these  latitudes  twenty  years  be- 
fore. Cunning  yet  drunken,  cruel  but  now  and  again 
doing  a  kindness  out  of  sheer  animal  spirits  or  a  desire 
to  show  off,  he  had  many  enemies,  and  yet  he  had  a  few 
friends.  When  the  itching  for  money  or  the  desire  to 
feel  power  over  those  about  him  urged  him,  as  most  of 
the  time,  he  proved  himself  the  ripest  and  rottenest  prod- 
uct of  his  early  and  present  environment.  He  had  had 
desperate  fights  to  keep  from  being  a  decaying  beach- 
comber, a  parasite  without  the  law ;  but  a  certain  Scotch 
caution,  a  love  of  making  and  amassing  profits,  and,  as 
I  learned  later,  a  firm  and  towering  native  wife,  had 
kept  him  at  least  out  of  jail  and  in  the  groove  of  trading. 

Boasting  was  his  chief  weakness.  He  would  go  far 
bo  find  the  chance  to  ease  his  latent  sense  of  inferiority 
to  an  audience  that  did  not  know  fully  his  poverty  of 
character  and  attainment.  After  years  of  ups  and 
downs  he  had  now  quarreled  with  his  recent  employers, 
and  was  going  to  pitch  his  trade  tent  on  some  Paumotu 
atoll  where  copra  and  pearl-shell  might  be  found.     He 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  18 

thought  that  he  might  stay  a  while  in  Takaroa,  one  of 
our  ports,  because  the  diving  season  was  about  to  open 
there.  He  and  I  being  the  only  ones  whose  language 
was  English,  we  were  much  together,  but  I  always  half 
despised  myself  for  not  speaking  my  mind  to  him. 
Still,  those  lonely  places  make  a  man  compromise  as 
much  as  do  cities.  What  one  might  fear  most  would 
be  having  no  one  to  talk  with. 

We  hved  on  deck,  all  four  of  us,  the  Moets,  McHenry, 
and  I,  along  with  a  half-caste  mate,  sleeping  always  on 
the  roof  of  the  cabin,  and  taking  our  meals  off  it,  except 
in  rain.  In  that  moist  case  we  bundled  on  the  floor  of 
the  cabin.  There  was  no  ceremony.  The  cook  brought 
the  food  through  the  cabin,  and  we  handed  up  and  down 
the  dishes  through  the  after  scuttle,  helping  ourselves  at 
will  to  the  wine  and  rum  which  were  in  clay  bottles  on 
the  roof.  McHenry  and  I  were  the  only  passengers, 
and  the  crew  of  six  Tahitians  was  ample  for  all  tasks. 
They  were  Piri  a  Tuahine,  the  boat-steerer ;  Peretia  a 
Huitofa,  Moe  a  Nahe,  Roometua  a  Terehe,  Piha  a 
Teina,  and  Huahine,  with  Tamataura,  the  cook. 

The  whole  forward  deck  of  the  schooner  was  crowded 
with  native  men,  women,  and  children,  the  families  of 
church  leaders  who  were  returning  to  their  Pautnotu 
homes  after  attending  a  religious  festival  in  Tahiti. 
They  lay  huddled  at  night,  sleeping  silently  in  the  moon- 
light and  under  the  stars.  All  day,  and  until  eight 
or  nine  o'clock,  they  conversed  and  ate,  and  worked  with 
their  hands,  plaiting  hats  of  pandanus,  sugar-cane,  bam- 
boo, and  other  materials.  White  laborers  massed  in 
such  discomfort  would  have  quarreled,  squabbled  for 
place,  and  eased  their  annoyance  in  loud  words,  but  the 


14  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Polynesian,  of  all  races,  loves  his  fellow  and  keeps  his 
temper. 

These  were  the  first  Paumotuan  people  I  had  seen  in- 
timately, and  I  listened  to  them  and  asked  them  ques- 
tions. A  deacon  who  at  night  removed  a  black  coat  and 
slept  in  a  white-flowered  blue  loin-cloth,  the  pareu  of  all 
the  Polynesians,  gazed  at  the  heavens  for  hours.  He 
knew  many  of  the  stars. 

"Our  old  people,"  he  said,  "believed  that  the  gods 
were  always  making  new  worlds  in  distant  sky  places 
beyond  the  Milky  Way,  the  Maoroaheita.  When  a  new 
world  was  made  by  the  strong  hands  of  the  gods,  the 
Atua,  it  went  like  a  great  bird  to  the  place  fixed  for  it. 
That  star,  Rehua" — he  pointed  toward  Sirius, — "was 
first  placed  by  the  Atua  near  the  Tauha,  the  Southern 
Cross,  but  afterwards  they  changed  it,  and  sent  it  to 
where  it  is  now." 

I  looked  at  the  glowing  cross,  and  remembered  the 
emotion  its  first  sight  had  stirred  in  me.  I  was  tossing 
on  the  royal  yard  of  a  bark  bound  for  Brazil,  up  a  hun- 
dred feet  and  more  from  deck,  when,  raising  my  head 
from  the  sail  I  had  made  fast,  there  burst  upon  me  the 
wonderful  form  and  brilliance  of  the  constellation  which 
five  thousand  years  ago  entranced  the  Old  World  but 
which  is  hidden  from  it  now. 

The  deacon  again  raised  his  hand  and  indicated  the 
spot  where  Rehua  had  shone  before  the  divine  mind  had 
changed.  It  was  the  Coal-sack,  the  black  vacancy  in 
the  Magellan  Clouds,  so  conspicuous  below  the  cross 
when  all  the  rest  of  the  sky  is  cloudless  and  clear.  The 
Maori  mind  had  wisely  settled  upon  that  vast  space  in 
the  stellar  system  in  which  not  even  an  atom  of  stellar 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  15 

dust  sheds  a  single  flicker  of  luminosity  as  the  point 
from  which  the  gods  had  plucked  Rehua.  I  had  no  such 
lucid  reason  for  this  amazing,  celestial  void  as  the  half- 
naked  deacon  on  the  deck  of  the  Marara. 

We  had  a  poor  wind  for  two  days,  and  I  looked  long 
hours  in  the  water,  so  close  to  the  deck,  at  the  manifesta- 
tions of  organic  and  vegetable  vitahty.  All  life  of  the 
ocean,  I  knew,  depended  ultimately  on  minute  plants. 
The  great  fish  and  mammals  fed  on  plant  forms  which 
were  distributed  throughout  the  seas.  These  grew  in 
the  waters  themselves  or  were  cast  into  them  along  their 
shores  or  by  the  thousands  of  rivers  which  eventually 
feed  the  ocean.  The  flora  of  all  the  earth,  seeds,  nuts, 
beans,  leaves,  kernels,  swam  or  sank  in  the  majority  ele- 
ment, and  aided  in  the  nourishment  of  the  creatures 
there.  They  had,  also,  taken  root  on  shores  foreign  to 
their  birth,  and  had,  from  immigrants,  become  esteemed 
natives  of  many  lands.  They  had  increased  man's 
knowledge,  too,  as  the  sea-beans  found  on  the  shores  of 
Scotland  led  to  the  discovery  of  that  puzzle  of  all  cur- 
rents, the  Gulf  Stream.  After  all  was  said,  the  land 
was  insignificant  compared  to  the  water — little  more 
than  a  fourth  of  the  surface  of  the  globe,  and  in  mass 
as  puny.  The  average  elevation  of  the  land  was  less 
than  a  fifth  of  a  mile,  while  the  average  depth  of  the 
sea  was  two  miles,  or  thirty  times  the  mass  of  the  land. 
If  the  sohd  earth  were  smoothed  down  to  a  level,  it  would 
be  entirely  covered  a  mile  deep  by  the  water.  I  felt 
very  close  to  the  sea,  and  fearful  of  its  might.  I  envied 
the  natives  their  assurance,  or,  at  least,  stolidity. 

The  days  were  intensely  hot.  When  the  sails  were 
furled  or  flapped  idly,  and  the  Marara  lay  almost  still. 


16  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

listening  for  even  a  whisper  of  wind,  I  suffered  keenly. 
The  second  noon  our  common  exasperation  broke  out 
in  the  inflammable  Moet. 

The  captain  shouted  to  Huahine,  a  sailor,  to  cover 
his  head  with  a  hat.  The  man  was  a  giant,  weighing 
more  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  but  Moet  ad- 
dressed him  as  he  would  a  child. 

"SaprisUr  he  yelled,  "Taupoo!  Maamaa!  Your 
hat,  you  fool!" 

''Diablo!  amigo"  he  said,  testily.  "Zose  nateev  air 
babee.  I  have  ze  men  paralyze  by  ze  sun  in  ze  Mar- 
queses.  In  ze  viento,  when  ze  win'  blow,  no  dan-gair, 
but  when  no  hlow—sacre!  ze  sun  melts  ze  brain  off -off." 

Captain  Moet  was  dramatic.  Whatever  he  said  he 
acted  with  face,  hands  and  arms,  feet,  and  even  his  whole 
body.  He  made  a  gesture  that  caused  me  to  touch  my 
own  hat,  to  consider  its  resistance  to  the  sun,  to  feel 
an  anticipation  of  harm.  Suddenly  he  took  the  arm  of 
the  sailor  at  the  wheel,  Piha  a  Teina,  a  Tahitian,  and, 
releasing  the  spokes  from  his  hands,  himself  began  to 
steer. 

"Go  there  in  the  lee  of  the  mainsail,"  he  said  in  Tahi- 
tian, "and  tell  the  American  about  your  terrible  adven- 
ture when  you  almost  died  of  thirst!" 

"Look  at  him!"  said  Moet  to  me.  "He  is  old  before 
his  time.     The  sun  did  that." 

Piha  a  Teina  stood  beside  me,  shy,  slow  to  begin  his 
epic.  He  was  shriveled  and  withered,  pitifully  marked 
by  some  experience  unusal  even  to  these  Maori  masters 
of  this  sea.  I  gave  him  a  cigarette,  and,  lighting  it,  he 
began ; 

"I  am  Piha  a  Teina,"  he  said.     "I  was  living  in  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  17 

island  of  Marutea  in  the  Paumotus  when  this  thing  hap- 
pened. I  set  out  one  day  in  a  cutter  for  Manga  Reva. 
That  island  was  seven  hundred  miles  away,  and  we  were 
sent,  Pere  Ani,  my  friend,  and  I,  to  bring  back  copra. 
The  cutter  was  small,  not  so  large  as  a  ship's  boat.  We 
had  food  for  eight  or  nine  days,  and  as  the  wind  was  as 
we  wanted  it,  blowing  steadily  toward  Manga  Reva,  we 
felt  sure  we  would  arrive  there  in  that  time.  But  we 
lost  the  stars.  They  would  not  show  themselves,  and 
soon  we  did  not  know  which  way  to  steer.  This  schooner 
has  a  compass,  but  we  could  not  tell  the  direction  by  the 
sun  as  we  had  not  the  aveia.  We  became  uneasy  and 
then  afraid.  Still  we  kept  on  by  guess  and  hope,  be- 
lieving the  wind  could  not  have  changed  its  mind  since 
we  started.  On  the  tenth  day  we  ate  the  last  bite  of 
our  food.  We  had  not  stinted  ourselves  until  the  eighth 
day,  and  then  we  felt  sure  the  next  day  or  the  next 
would  bring  the  land. 

"But  on  the  eleventh  day  we  saw  nothing  but  the  sea. 
I  had  a  pearl  hook  and  with  it  we  caught  bonito.  We 
ate  them  raw.  They  made  us  thirsty,  and  we  drank  all 
our  water.  It  did  not  rain  for  many  days,  and  we  drank 
ttie  salt  water.  When  it  rained  we  had  nothing  in  which 
to  catch  and  keep  the  fresh  water.  We  could  only  suck 
the  wet  sail  which  we  had  taken  down  because  we  had 
become  too  weak  to  handle  it  if  the  gale  had  caught  us 
with  it  up.  We  drifted  and  drifted  with  the  current. 
The  sun  beat  upon  us  and  we  were  burned  like  the  bread- 
fruit in  the  oven.  I  could  not  touch  my  breast  in  the 
daytime  it  was  so  hot.  The  time  went  on  as  slowly  as 
the  cocoanut-tree  grows  from  the  nut  we  plant.  We  left 
in  the  month  you  call  October.    Days  and  nights  we 


18  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

floated  without  using  the  tiller  except  to  keep  the  cutter 
before  the  wind  when  it  blew  hard.  We  had  been  asleep 
maybe  a  day  or  two  when  a  storm  came.  We  did  not 
wake  up,  but  it  cast  us  on  the  island  of  Rapa-iti.  Pere 
Ani  never  woke  up,  but  I  am  here.  The  sun  killed 
him." 

"How  long  were  you  in  the  cutter?"  I  asked. 

Moet  heard  my  question  and  replied : 

^'Mais,  zey  lef  Marutea  in  octohre,  an'  ze  Zelee,  the 
Franche  war-sheep,  fin'  zem  on  Rapa-iti  in  Januaire. 
Zey  was — yo  no  se — more  zan  seexty  day  in  ze  boat." 

Piha  a  Teina  expressed  neither  gladness  nor  sorrow 
that  he  had  escaped  the  fate  of  Pere  Ani.  He  knew,  as 
his  race,  that  fate  was  inexorable,  and  he  contemplated 
life  as  the  gift  of  a  powerful  force  that  could  not  be 
argued  with  nor  threatened  by  prayers,  though,  to  be 
in  the  mode,  he  might  make  such  supplications. 

"If  I  had  had  such  a  hohoa  moana,  sl  chart  of  the  sea, 
as  we  formerly  made  of  sticks,"  he  said,  "I  could  have 
found  Manga  Reva  without  the  stars.  We  made  them 
of  straight  and  curved  pieces  of  wood  or  bamboo,  and  we 
marked  islands  on  them  with  shells.  They  showed  the 
currents  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  sea,  and  with 
them  we  made  journeys  of  thousands  of  miles  to  the 
Marquesas  and  to  Hawaii  and  Samoa.  But  we  have 
forgotten  how  to  make  them,  and  I  know  nothing  of  the 
paper  charts  the  white  man  has,  but  I  can  read  the 
aveia,  the  compass  of  the  schooner.  We  did  not  take 
our  hooa  in  our  canoes,  but  studied  them  at  home." 

The  captain  whistled,  caught  my  eye,  touched  his  fore- 
head to  signify  Piha  a  Teina  was  wandering  mentally, 
and  summoned  the  sailor  to  take  the  wheel. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  19 

"He  ees  maamaa  ewair  since  zat  leetle  voyage,"  he 
said,  sagely. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  from  Papeete  the 
first  of  the  eighty  Paumotu  atolls  raised  a  dehcate  green 
fringe  of  trees  four  or  five  miles  away.  It  lay  so  low 
that  from  the  deck  of  the  schooner  it  could  not  be  seen 
even  on  the  clearest  days  at  a  greater  distance.  One 
heard  the  surf  before  the  island  appeared.  It  was  only 
a  few  feet  above  the  plane  of  the  sea,  flat,  with  no  hill 
or  eminence  upon  it,  a  leaf  upon  the  surface  of  a  pond. 
I  could  hardly  believe  it  part  of  the  familiar  globe.  It 
was  more  like  the  fairy-island  of  childhood,  the  coral 
strand  of  youth,  the  lotus  land  of  poesy.  It  was,  in 
reality,  the  most  beautiful,  fascinating,  inconceivable 
sight  upon  the  ocean. 

McHenry  and  I  stood  with  Chocolat  and  watched  the 
slow  rise  of  the  atoll  of  Niau,  as  the  Marara,  under  less- 
ened sail  and  with  Captain  Moet  at  the  helm,  cautiously 
approached  the  land.  We  crept  up  to  it,  as  one  might 
to  a  trap  in  which  one  hoped  to  snare  a  hare  but  feared 
to  find  a  wolf.  All  hands  stood  by  for  orders. 
Though  the  sky  was  azure  and  the  sun  broiling,  one 
never  knew  in  the  Pernicious  Islands  when  the  unfore- 
seen might  happen. 

Seven  miles  long  and  five  wide,  Niau  was  a  matchless 
bracelet  of  ivory  and  jade.  Grieg  Island,  some  Anglo- 
Saxon  discoverer  once  named  it,  but  Grieg  had  fame 
abroad  only.  None  spoke  his  name  as  we  advanced 
warily  over  the  road,  familiar  to  them  all  as  the  Sulu 
Sea  to  me.  The  cargo  for  Niau  came  through  the 
hatches,  thrown  up  from  the  hold,  sailor  to  sailor,  and 
was  piled  on  deck  until  all  was  checked.     Madame  Moet 


20  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

was  on  the  poop  by  the  after  door  of  the  cabin,  hanging 
over  each  item  and  marking  it  off  upon  her  inventory, 
while  Jean  hummed  the  "Carmagnole,"  and  swung  the 
Flying  Fish  about  on  short  tacks  for  her  goal.  Between 
the  shifting  of  the  canvas  the  long-boat  was  lowered,  and 
the  goods  heaped  in  it:  boxes  and  barrels,  bales  and 
buckets,  edibles  and  clothing,  matches  and  tobacco,  gim- 
cracks  and  patent  medicines. 

As  closer  we  went,  I  saw  that  Niau  was  a  perfect 
oval,  composed  of  a  number  of  separate  islets  or  motus. 
These  formed  the  land  on  which  were  the  trees  and 
shrubs  and  the  people,  but  this  oval  itself  was  inclosed 
by  a  hidden  reef,  several  hundred  feet  wide,  on  which 
the  breakers  -crashed  and  spilled  in  a  flood  of  foaming 
billows. 

There  was  no  enthusiasm  over  the  beauty  of  Niau 
except  in  my  heaving  breast,  and  I  concealed  it  as  I 
would  free  thinking  in  a  monastery.  To  McHenry 
and  Jean  and  Virginia,  a  lovely  atoll  was  but  a  speck 
upon  the  ocean  on  which  to  cozen  inferior  creatures. 

"Madre  de  Diosf*  vociferated  the  skipper,  when,  a 
mile  from  the  gleaming  teeth  of  the  reef,  he  brought  the 
Marara  up  into  the  wind  and  halted  her  like  a  panting 
mare  thrown  upon  her  haunches.  "Mc'onree  et  M'sieu' 
O'Breeon,  eef  you  go  'shore,  tomble  een,  pronto!" 

He  released  the  wheel  to  the  mate,  and  we  three 
scrambled  over  the  rail  and  jumped  upon  the  cargo  as 
the  boat  rose  on  a  wave,  joining  the  four  Tahitians  who 
were  at  the  heavy  oars,  with  Piri  a  Tuahine  at  the  stern, 
holding  a  long  sweep  for  a  rudder.  It  was  attached  by 
a  bight  of  rope,  and  by  a  longer  rope  kept  from  float- 
ing away  in  case  of  mishap. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  21 

Now  came  as  delicate  a  bit  of  action  with  sails  as  a 
yachtsman,  with  his  mother-in-law  as  a  guest,  might  reck- 
lessly essay.  Captain  Moet  sang  out  from  his  perch  on 
a  barrel  to  the  half-caste  at  the  wheel  to  go  ahead,  and 
the  Flying  Fish,  which  for  a  few  minutes  had  been  trem- 
bling in  leash,  turned  on  her  heel  and  headed  directly 
for  the  streak  of  foam,  the  roar  of  which  drowned  our 
voices  at  that  distance. 

Eight  hundred  feet  away,  when  it  must  have  looked  to 
a  landsman  on  the  schooner  that  she  was  almost  in  the 
breakers,  we  cast  off  the  line  and  took  to  our  oars.  It 
was  nice  seamanship  to  save  time  by  minimizing  rowing, 
but  certainly  not  in  Lloyd's  rules  of  safety.  Those  who 
reckon  dangers  do  not  laugh  in  these  parts.  A  merry 
rashness  helps  ease  of  mind. 

In  five  minutes  our  boat  was  in  the  surf,  rolling  and 
tumbling,  and  I  on  my  merchandise  peak  clasped  a  bale 
fervently,  though  McHenry  and  Moet  appeared  glued 
to  barrels  which  they  rode  jauntily.  It  was  now  I  saw 
the  art  of  the  Polynesians,  the  ablest  breaker  boatmen 
in  the  world. 

All  about  seemed  to  me  soHd  coral  rock  or  distorted 
masses  of  limestone  covering  and  uncovering  with  the 
surging  water,  but  suddenly  there  came  into  my  altering 
view,  as  the  steersman  headed  toward  it,  a  strange  pit  in 
the  unyielding  strata.  Into  this  maelstrom  the  water 
rushed  furiously,  drawn  in  and  sucked  out  with  each  roll 
of  the  ocean.  The  Tahitians,  at  a  word,  stopped  row- 
ing, while  Piri  a  Tuahine  scrutinized  intently  the  onrush- 
ing  waves.  He  judged  the  speed  and  force  of  each  as 
it  neared  him,  and  on  his  accuracy  of  eye  and  mind  de- 
pended our  lives. 


22  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

The  oarsmen  tugged  with  their  blades  to  hold  the 
boat  against  the  sweeping  tide,  and  abruptly,  with  a 
wild  shout,  Piri  a  Tuahine  set  them  to  pulling  like  mad, 
while  he  with  his  long  oar  both  steered  and  sculled. 

"Tamau  te  paina!"  all  yelled  amid  the  boom  of  the 
surf. 

"Hold  on  to  the  wood!"  and  down  into  the  pit  we 
tore ;  down  and  in,  the  boat  raced  through  the  vortex  of 
the  chute,  the  pilot  avoiding  narrowly  the  coffin-like 
sides  of  the  menacing  depression,  and  the  sailors,  with 
their  oars  aloft  for  the  few  dread  seconds,  awaiting  with 
joyous  shouts  the  emergence  into  the  shallows.  All 
was  in  the  strong  hands  and  steady  nerves  of  Piri  a 
Tuahine.  A  miscalculated  swerve  of  his  sturdy  lever, 
and  we  would  have  been  smashed  like  egg-shells,  boat 
and  bodies,  against  the  massive  sides.  But  spirit  and 
wood  were  stedf ast,  and  I  rode  as  high  and  dry  from  the 
imminent  Scylla  as  if  on  a  camel  in  the  Sahara. 

In  a  few  twinklings  of  an  eye  we  were  past  the  reef, 
and  in  the  moat  in  fast  shoaling,  quiet  water,  studded 
with  hummocks  and  heaps  of  coral.  The  sailors  leaped 
into  it  shoulder-deep,  and  guided  and  forced  the  boat 
as  far  shoreward  as  possible,  to  curtail  the  cargo-carry- 
ing distance.  Captain  Moet,  McHenry,  and  I  went  up 
to  our  waists,  and  reached  the  beach. 


CHAPTER  II 

Meeting  with  Tommy  Eustace,  the  trader — Strange  soil  of  the  atoll — A 
bath  in  the  lagoon — Momuni,  the  thirsty  bread  baker — Off  for  An«ia. 

THE  crusader  who  entered  Jerusalem  had  no 
deeper  feeling  of  realization  of  a  long-cherished 
hope  than  I  when  my  foot  imprinted  its  mold  in 
the  glistening  sand  of  the  atoll  of  Niau.  I  stood  in  my 
track  and  scanned  it,  as  Crusoe  the  first  human  mark 
other  than  his  own  he  saw  on  his  lonely  island.  Not 
with  his  dismay,  but  yet  with  a  shght  panic,  a 
pleasant  but  alarmed  perturbation,  an  awe  at  the  won- 
der of  the  scene.  The  moment  had  the  tenseness  of 
that  when  I  saw  my  first  cocoanut-palm ;  it  mingled  a 
fear  that  I  had  passed  one  of  the  great  climacterics  of 
visual  emotion. 

Here  was  I  in  the  arcanum  of  romance,  the  promised 
land  of  chimera,  after  years  of  faint  expectation.  I 
was  almost  stunned  by  the  reality,  and  I  felt  sensibly 
the  need  of  some  one  to  share  the  pathos  that  oppressed 
me.  I  did  not  forsake  my  love  for  Tahiti.  That  was 
fixed,  but  this  atoll  was  not  the  same.  Tahiti  was  an 
adored  mistress,  this  a  light  o'  love,  a  dazzling,  alien 
siren,  with  whom  one  could  not  rest  in  safety ;  a  fanciful 
abode  for  a  brief  period,  as  incomparable  to  Tahiti  as 
an  ice-field  to  a  garden. 

"What  the  bloody  hell's  eatin'  on  you?"  exclaimed  the 
irked   McHenry,  questioningly  as  he  glared   at  me. 

23 


24  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"Are  n't  your  feet  mates?  Let 's  see  Tommy  Eustace! 
He  might  have  a  bottle  o'  beer  buried  in  a  cool  place." 

Moet  was  shaking  the  salt  water  from  his  long,  inky 
hair.  He  had  stumbled  and  dipped  his  head  in  the 
brine. 

''  'S US-Maria!"  he  swore.  "Virginie  she  say  Jean 
been  drink.'  " 

A  shed-like  building  of  rough  boards,  with  unpainted 
corrugated  iron  roof,  was  a  hundred  steps  from  the 
water,  the  store  and  warehouse  of  the  single  trader,  who 
supplied  the  wants  and  ambitions  of  the  hundred  in- 
habitants of  Niau  and  endeavored  to  monopolize  a 
meager  output  of  copra  and  pearl  shell.  It  was  on  a 
rude  road,  which  stretched  along  the  beach,  edged  by  a 
dozen  houses,  small,  wooden  huts,  or  thatched  straw 
shanties,  much  more  primitive  and  poor  than  in  Tahiti. 
All  the  remainder  of  Niau  was  coral,  water,  and  cocoa- 
nut-trees,  except  a  scanty  vegetation. 

Thomas  Eustace,  the  trader,  or  Tome,  as  the  natives 
called  him,  was  in  the  doorway  of  his  establishment, 
awaiting  the  sailors  who  had  begun  at  once  to  carry  the 
Marara's  freight  from  the  boat  through  the  moat.  A 
quarter  of  a  century  ago,  a  broth  of  a  boy  from  Ireland, 
he  had  stepped  off  a  ship  alongside  the  Papeete  quay, 
and  had  never  left  the  South  Seas  since. 

"Faix,  I  had  the  divil's  own  toime  to  shtay,"  say 
Tome,  as  we  four  sat  by  an  empty  barrel  head  and  drank 
the  warmish  beer  he  had  offered  us  with  instant  hospital- 
ity. 

"I  waz  that  atthracted  by  the  purty  gir-ruls,  the 
threes,  and  the  foine-shmellin'  flowers  that  the  ould  man 
of  the  ship  nivir  could  dhraw  me  back  to  the  pots  an' 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  25 

pans  iv  the  galley.  I  waz  the  flunky  in  the  kitchin  iv  a 
wind-jammin'  Sassenach  bark,  peelin'  praties,  an' 
waitin'  on  sailormin.  The  father  iv  a  darlin'  hid  me  out 
be  Fautaua  falls,  an'  the  jondarmy  hunted  an'  hunted, 
wid  nothin'  for  their  thrubble." 

A  stoutish,  quizzical  man  was  Tomie,  with 
brown  face  and  throat  and  hands,  a  stubby,  chewed 
mustache  and  sleepy,  laughing  eyes.  By  the  purling 
steam  of  Fautaua,  where  Loti  had  lived  his  idyl  with 
Rarahu  and  I  had  walked  with  a  princess,  Thomas 
Eustace  became  Tome  forever  and  ever.  He  was  well 
satisfied  to  be  bashaw  of  an  atoll,  unused  to  greater  com- 
fort as  he  was,  and  enamored  of  reef  and  palm,  and  the 
lazy,  unstandardized  life  of  the  South  Seas. 

"Ye  may  picther  me,"  he  went  on,  as  he  poured  the 
beer,  "jumpin'  out  iv  the  p'isonous  galley  iv  that  wind- 
jammin'  man-killer,  an'  fallin',  be  the  grace  iv  God, 
into  a  grove  iv  cocoanuts,  wid  roas'  pig,  breadfruit,  and 
oranges  fur  breakfus,  deejunee,  an'  dinner,  to  whistle 
low  about  a  brown  fairy  that  swimg  on  the  same  branch 
wid  me  I  The  Emerald  Isle  the  divil!  'T  is  Tahiti's 
the  Tir-na'n-Og!  This  beats  the  bogs  an'  the  peat  an' 
the  stirabout,  wid  no  peeler  to  move  you  on,  an'  no 
soggarth  to  tell  ye  ye're  a  sinner!" 

Tome  was  ten  years  in  Penrhyn,  the  noted  pearl  island 
belonging  to  New  Zealand,  and  known  as  Tongareva. 
Lying  Bill,  McHenry,  and  Eustace  were  fellow-traders 
in  that  lonely  spot.  "Fellow"  in  such  relations  meant 
the  affectionate  intercourse  of  wolves  who  united  to 
chase  the  sheep  and  quarrel  over  the  carcass.  McHenry 
and  Tome  had  greeted  each  other  with  cold  familiarity, 
each  knowing  the  other  through  and  through,  wondering 


26  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

how  the  other  would  beat  him,  and  yet  not  averse  to  an 
exchange  of  trade  news  and  the  gossip  of  Tahiti  and 
the  Group,  as  they  called  the  Paumotus. 

"How  's  old  Lovaina?"  asked  Tome. 

"Chargin'  as  much  as  ever  for  her  cheap  scoffin's," 
replied  McHenry,  who  had  never  eaten  a  better  meal 
than  that  served  at  the  Tiare  Hotel.  Eustace,  I  doubted 
not,  was  a  square  and  genial  man,  but  among  his  busi- 
ness kind  he  had  to  fight  bludgeon  with  bludgeon.  He 
opened  a  fresh  cocoanut  and  diverted  the  mouth  of  an 
infant  from  its  natural  fount  to  make  it  swallow  a  few 
drops.  The  mother,  a  handsome,  young  woman,  proud 
of  her  armful,  gestured  smilingly  that  Tome  was  its 
father. 

"Mavourneen  dheelish!"  he  called  her,  and  the  baby, 
"Molly." 

Cocoanuts  differ  in  kind  and  quality  as  much  as 
apples,  and  Eustace  gave  me  a  kaipoa,  which  at  his 
direction  I  ate,  husks  and  all,  and  found  it  deKcious. 

Leaving  the  two  merchants  to  continue  their  armed 
banter,  I  stepped  outside  the  store  and  struck  off  the 
road  toward  the  center  of  the  island,  through  fields  of 
broken  coral,  mysterious  in  its  oppositeness  from  all 
other  terrestrial  formations.  There  was  no  earth  that 
one  could  see  or  feel,  but  a  matted  vegetation  in  spots 
showed  that  even  in  these  whited  sepulchers  of  the  coral 
animals  outlandish  plants  had  found  the  substance  of 
life.  The  flora,  though  desperate  in  its  poverty,  was 
heartening  in  that  it  could  survive  at  all.  The  lofty 
cocoanut-palm,  standing  straight  as  a  mast  or  curving 
in  singular  grace,  grew  luxuriantly — the  evergreen 
banner  of  this  giant  fleet  of  anchored  ships  of  stone. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  27j 

Through  a  few  hundred  yards  of  this  weird  desert- jun- 
gle, I  reached  the  lagoon  which  the  inner  marge  of  the 
great  coral  reef  inclosed. 

No  lake  that  I  have  seen  approached  this  mere 
in  simple  beauty,  nor  had  artist's  vision  wrought 
a  more  startling,  extravagant,  yet  perfect  work  of 
color.  The  lagoon  of  Niau  was  small  enough  to 
encompass  with  a  glance  from  where  I  stood.  I 
felt  myself  in  an  enchanted  spot.  Niau  was  not 
all  wooded.  For  long  stretches  only  the  white  coral 
lined  the  shores,  with  here  and  there  the  plumy 
palms  refreshing  the  eyes — brilliant  in  contrast  with 
the  bare  sheen  of  the  coral,  and  softly  rustling  in  the 
breeze. 

The  water  of  the  lagoon  was  palest  blue,  verging  to 
green,  clear  almost  as  the  pure  air,  and  the  beach  shelved 
rapidly  into  depths. 

The  beach  was  made  up  of  tiny  shells  crumbling  into 
sand,  billions  and  billions  of  them  in  the  twenty  miles 
about  the  lagoon.  In  each  of  the  legion  coral  isles  this 
was  repeated,  so  that  the  mind  contemplating  them  was 
confused  at  the  incalculable  prodigality  of  the  life  ex- 
pended to  build  them  and  the  oddity  of  the  problem  ar- 
ranged by  the  power  planning  them. 

"Every  single  atom,  from  the  least  particle  to  the 
largest  fragment  of  rock,  in  this  great  pile,"  said  Dar- 
win, "bears  the  stamp  of  having  been  subjected  to  organ- 
ized arrangement.  We  feel  surprised  when  travelers 
tell  us  of  the  vast  dimensions  of  the  Pyramids  and  other 
great  ruins,  but  how  utterly  insignificant  are  the  greatest 
of  these  when  compared  to  these  mountains  of  stone  ac- 
cumulated by  the  agency  of  various  minute  and  tender 


28  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

animals.  This  is  a  wonder  which  does  not  at  first  strike 
the  eye  of  the  body,  but,  after  reflection,  the  eye  of 
reason." 

I  sat  down  under  a  dwarf  cocoanut  and  let  my  eyes 
and  mind  dwell  upon  the  gorgeousness  of  the  prospect 
and  the  insight  into  nature's  reticences  it  afforded. 
Everywhere  were  the  tombs  or  skeletons  of  the  myriad 
creatures  who  had  labored  and  died  to  construct  these 
footstools  of  Might.  Could  man  assume  that  these  eons 
of  years  and  countless  births,  efforts,  and  deaths,  were 
for  any  concern  of  his?  But  else,  he  asked,  why  were 
they?  To  show  the  boundless  power  and  caprice  of  the 
Creator?    Was  not  the  world  made  for  humanity? 

An  atoll  was  to  an  island  as  a  comet  to  a  star — a  freak 
or  sport  in  the  garden  of  the  sea-gods.  It  was  as  if  the 
Designer  had  planned  to  set  up,  in  the  thousand  miles 
of  ocean  through  which  the  Dangerous  Islands  stretched, 
a  whimsical  cluster  of  shallower  salt  lakes,  and  so  had 
bidden  trillions  of  tiny  beings  to  inclose  them.  For, 
after  all,  an  atoll  was  but  a  lagoon  surrounded  by  a  reef 
of  coral,  or  rather  two  reefs,  for  in  the  plan  of  the 
Architect  there  was  built  a  second  reef  for  every  atoll, 
and  this  outer  barrier  was  sunken,  as  the  one  through 
which  we  had  come,  but  yet  took  the  brunt  of  the  waves, 
and  prevented  them  from  washing  away  and  destroying 
the  innner  and  habitable  reef  on  which  I  then  sat. 

This  hidden  shoal  belted  the  beach  regularly,  so  that 
it  made  a  moat  between  the  two ;  and  yet  in  most  atolls 
there  was  such  an  opening  as  that  through  which  we  had 
come,  often  a  mere  depression,  sometimes  a  deep  and 
wide  mouth.  One  was  forced  to  consider  whether  the 
Architect  had  not  taken  man  into  his  scheme,  for  with- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  29 

out  such  an  opening  no  people  could  reach  the  shore  and 
lagoon.  But  the  grievous  fact  was  that  in  some  atolls 
the  minute  workers  had  left  no  door  and  that  man  himself 
had  torn  one  open  with  tools  and  explosives.  Even  once 
within  the  moat,  our  boat  was  in  comparative  safety  only 
in  the  mildest  weather,  for  the  moat  was  studded  with 
lumps  and  boulders  of  coral,  and  the  most  crafty  guard- 
ianship was  imperative  to  keep  our  craft  whole. 

If  there  had  been  an  entry  through  the  inner  shore 
into  the  peaceful  lagoon  by  which  I  lolled,  then  would 
anchorage  and  calm  have  been  assured.  So,  of  course, 
nature  had  in  some  other  atolls  than  Niau  attended  to 
this  detail,  and  these  I  was  to  find  more  inhabited  and 
more  developed,  for  in  some  even  schooners  might  seek 
the  haven  of  the  lake,  and  a  fleet  lie  there  in  security. 
The  lagoons  were  thus,  generally,  safe  and  unflurried, 
though  sometimes  terribly  harried  by  cyclones,  such  as 
Lying  Bill  described  the  Dane  as  riding  from  sea  to 
sea  across  the  entire  island  of  Anaa. 

Each  of  the  Paumotus  was  made  up  of  a  number  of 
motus,  or  islets,  parted  by  lower  strata  in  which  was  the 
moat  water.  This  string  of  motus  assumed  many  dis- 
similar figures.  One  had  fifty  pieces  in  its  puzzle — a 
puzzle  not  fully  solved  by  science,  or,  at  least,  still 
in  dispute.  The  motus  were  all  formed  of  coral  rock 
of  comparatively  recent  origin  geologically.  Were 
these  atolls  the  mountain-tops  of  a  lost  Atlantis  or 
thrust-up  marine  plateaus?  The  wise  men  differed. 
A  theory  was  that  the  atolls  were  coral  formations  upon 
volcanic  islands  that  had  slowly  sunk,  each  a  monument 
marking  an  engulfed  island  or  mountain  peak. 

Another,  that  volcanic  activity,  which  mothered  the 


30  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

high  islands  in  these  seas,  caused  to  rise  from  the  bottom 
of  the  ocean  a  series  of  submerged  tablelands,  leveled 
by  the  currents  and  waves,  on  which  the  coral  insects 
erected  the  reefs — reefs  just  peeping  above  the  surface 
of  the  water — and  on  which  the  storms  threw  great 
blocks  of  madrepores  and  coral  broken  from  the  mass. 
When  in  this  condition,  mere  rocky  rings  of  milky  coral, 
over  which  each  billow  swept,  without  life  or  aught  else 
than  the  structures  of  the  marvelous  zoophytes,  floors 
cut  and  broken  here  and  there  by  the  surging  and 
pounding  breakers,  the  hand  of  the  Master  raised  them 
up,  as  through  Polynesia  other  islands  had  been  raised, 
and  fixed  these  Paumotus  as  the  fairest  growths  of 
Neptune's  park. 

Lifted  above  the  watery  level,  they  were  able  to  begin 
their  task  of  usefulness.  Seeds  carried  by  currents, 
borne  by  the  winds,  or  brought  by  those  greatest  of  all 
pioneers  and  settlers  of  new  countries,  the  sea-birds, 
were  flung  on  these  ready,  but  yet  barren,  atolls,  and 
vegetation  gave  them  an  entrancing  present. 

Volcano  and  insect  combined  to  make  these  coral 
blossoms  of  the  South  Seas  so  different  from  any  other 
mundane  formations  that  the  man  with  any  dreaming 
in  his  soul  stood  awe-struck  at  the  wonder  and  artistry 
of  nature.  They  were  the  most  wonderful  and  simple 
of  nature's  works.  They  eluded  portrayal  by  brush 
and  camera.  No  canvas  or  film  could  grasp  their  sym- 
metry and  grace,  seize  more  than  a  fragment  of  their 
alluring  form  or  hint  of  their  admirable  colors.  Ravish- 
ing scenes  from  the  deck  of  a  ship,  and  marvels  of  con- 
struction and  hue  when  upon  them,  they  were  sad  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  81 

disappointing  to  the  dweller,  like  a  lovely  woman  who 
has  a  bad  disposition. 

Circles,  ovals,  and  horseshoes,  regular  and  irregular, 
a  few  miles  or  a  hundred  in  circumference,  the  Pau- 
motus  were  always  essentially  the  same — the  lagoon  and 
the  fringe  of  reef  and  palm.  These  lies  Dangereuses 
were  the  supreme  in  creation  in  harmonious  light  and 
shade.  They  were  the  very  breath  of  imagination. 
My  thoughts  harked  back  to  the  dawn  of  hfe,  and  the 
struggle  between  the  land  and  water  in  which  continents 
and  islands  were  drowned,  and  others  rose  to  be  the 
home  of  beast  and  man,  when  God  said,  "Let  the  dry 
land  appear." 

These  atolls  had  fought  the  ceaseless  war  which 
slowly,  but  eternally,  shifted  our  terrestrial  foothold. 
Makatea,  nearer  Tahiti,  lifted  its  strange  cliffs  two  hun- 
dred feet  in  the  air.  It  had  been  raised  by  subterra- 
nean force  thirty-five  fathoms  from  the  sea-level,  and 
its  coasts  were  vertical  walls  of  that  height. 

The  young  Darwin's  theory  appealed  even  with  these 
examples  of  resurgence.  It  was  improbable  that  an 
elevatory  force  would  uplift  through  an  immense  area 
great,  rocky  banks  within  twenty  or  thirty  fathoms  of 
the  surface  of  the  sea,  and  not  a  single  point  above  that 
level.  Where  on  the  surface  of  the  globe  was  a  chain 
of  mountains,  even  a  few  hundred  miles  in  length,  with 
their  many  summits  rising  within  a  few  feet  of  a  given 
level,  and  not  one  pinnacle  above  it?  Yet  that  was  the 
condition  in  these  atolls,  for  the  coral  animal  could  not 
live  more  than  thirty  fathoms  or  so  below  the  atmosphere, 
so  that  the  basic  foundations  of  the  atolls,  on  which  the 


32  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

mites  laid  their  offerings  and  their  bones,  were  fewer 
than  two  hundred  feet  under  the  surface.  The  polyp 
gnome  died  from  the  pressure  of  water  at  greater 
depths.  Just  outside  the  reefs  or  between  the 
atolls,  the  depths  were  often  greater  than  a  mile 
or  two. 

The  vague  science  I  possessed  stimulated  the  memo- 
ries of  my  reading  of  that  oldest  civilization  in  tradition, 
the  immense  continent  of  Pan,  which  a  score  of  millen- 
niums ago,  according  to  the  poet  archaeologists,  flour- 
ished in  this  Pacific  Ocean.  Its  cryptogram  attended 
in  many  spots  the  discovery  of  a  new  Rosetta  stone. 
I  myself  had  seen  huge  monoliths,  half -buried  pyramids 
and  High  Places,  hieroglyphs  and  carvings,  certainly 
the  fashioning  of  no  living  races.  Were  these  Pau- 
motus,  and  many  other  islands  from  Japan  to  Easter, 
the  tops  of  the  submerged  continent,  Pan,  which 
stretched  its  crippled  body  along  the  floor  of  the  Pa- 
cific for  thousands  of  leagues?  There  were  legends, 
myths,  customs,  inexplicable  absences  of  usages  and 
knowledge  on  the  part  of  present  peoples,  all  perhaps 
capable  of  interpretation  by  this  fascinating  theory  of 
a  race  lost  to  history  before  Sumer  attained  coherence 
or  Babylon  made  bricks. 

Over  this  land  bridge,  mayhap,  ventured  a  Caucasian 
people,  the  dominant  blood  in  Polynesia  to-day,  and 
when  the  connecting  links  in  the  chain  to  their  cradle 
fell  from  the  sights  of  sun  and  stars,  the  survivors  were 
isolated  for  ages  on  the  islands  like  Tahiti  and  the  Mar- 
quesas. On  the  mountain-tops,  plateaus  beneath  the 
water,  the  coral  insect  built  up  these  atolls  until  they 
stood  in  their  wondrous  shapes  splendid  examples  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  33 

nature's  self -arrested  labor,  sculptures  of  unbelievable 
brilliancy. 

To  them  came  first  Caucasians  who  had  been  spared 
in  the  cataclysm,  and  later  the  new  sailors  of  giant 
canoes  who  followed  from  Asia  the  line  of  islets  and 
atolls,  fighting  with  and  conquering  the  Caucasians, 
and  merging  into  them  in  the  course  of  generations. 
These  first  and  succeeding  migrations  must  have  been 
forced  by  devastating  natural  phenomena,  by  terrible 
economic  pressure,  by  wars  and  tribal  feuds.  It  was 
not  probable  that  any  people  deliberately  chose  these 
atolls  in  preference  to  the  higher  lands,  but  that  they 
occupied  them  in  lieu  of  better  on  account  of  evil  for- 
tune. 

These  eighty  Paumotu  islands  averaged  about  forty 
miles  apart,  with  only  two  thousand  people  in  all  of 
them,  which  would  allow,  if  equally  distributed,  only 
twenty-five  inhabitants  to  each.  On  more  than  half 
of  them  no  person  lived,  and  all  the  others  were  scantily  ' 
peopled.  Three  or  four  hundred  might  occupy  one 
atoll  where  shell  and  cocoanuts  were  bountiful  and  fish 
plentiful  and  good,  while  two  score  and  more  atolls 
were  left  for  the  frigate-bird  to  build  its  nest  and  for 
the  robber-crab  to  eat  its  full  of  nuts. 

The  thud  of  a  cocoanut  beside  me  stirred  me  from  my 
reverie.  I  was  wet  with  the  wading  ashore  and  the 
sweat  of  my  walk,  and  so  I  removed  my  few  garments 
and  plunged  into  the  lagoon.  Going  down  to  test  the 
declivity  a  yard  or  so  from  the  water's  edge  I  dropped 
twenty  feet  and  touched  no  bottom.  The  water  was 
limpid,  delicious,  and  I  could  see  the  giant  coral  fans 
waving  fifty  feet  below  me. 


34  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

As  I  loitered  on  my  back  in  the  water,  and  looked 
down  into  the  crystal  depths  and  at  the  cloirtlless  sky, 
I  had  a  moment's  phantasm  of  a  great  city,  its  lofty 
trade  battlements,  its  crowded  streets,  the  pale,  set 
faces  of  its  people,  the  splendor  of  the  rich  houses,  the 
squalor  of  the  tenements,  the  police  with  clubs  and  guns, 
and  the  shrieking  traffic.  Here  was  the  sweetest  con- 
trast, where  man  had  hardly  touched  the  primitive  work 
of  nature.  It  was  long  from  Sumer,  and  far  from 
Gotham. 

I  was  floating  at  ease  when  I  heard  a  voice.  It 
seemed  to  come  out  of  the  water.  It  was  soft  and  al- 
most etheric. 

"Maitair  it  said,  which  meant,  "You  're  all  right." 

I  turned  on  my  side,  and  by  my  garments  was  a 
long,  gaunt  Niauan,  with  a  loose  mouth,  loafing  there, 
with  his  eyes  fawning  upon  me.  He  smiled  sweetly, 
and  said,  "Goodanighta!" 

As  it  was  hardly  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
sun  a  ball  of  fire,  and  the  glare  of  the  reef  like  the  shine 
of  a  boy's  mirror  in  one's  eyes,  I  argued  against  his 
English  education.  But  courtesy  is  not  correction. 
I  said  in  kind,  "Goodanighta!"  He  came  into  the 
water  and  repaid  me  by  shaking  my  hand,  and  with  a 
movement  toward  the  beach,  said,  "Damafina!" 

"Maitai!"  I  corroborated  his  opinion,  and  then  he 
beckoned  to  me  to  leave  the  lagoon  and  follow  him.  I 
dressed,  all  moist  as  I  was,  and  we  returned  toward  the 
village,  I  wondering  what  design  on  me  he  had. 

"She  canna  fik  (fix)  you  show  Niau,"  my  cicerone 
explained,  as  he  waved  toward  the  island. 

"All  right,  good,  number  one,"  I  assented. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  35 

He  laughed  with  pleased  vanity  at  his  success  in  con- 
versing with  me  in  my  tongue  and  at  the  envious  looks 
of  the  people  on  their  tiny  porches  as  we  passed  them, 
and  I  saluted  them. 

"Momuni!  Momunir  they  called  after  him  with 
scornful  laughter,  and  beckoned  me  to  leave  him  and 
join  them. 

"Haere  mcdr  they  said,  sweetly  to  me.  Come  to 
us!" 

My  guide  did  not  like  either  the  name  they  gave 
him  or  their  efforts  to  alienate  us.  He  retorted  with 
an  impolite  gesticulation,  and  cried,  "Popay!  Poyay!" 
Momuni,  though,  was  plainly  nervous,  and  afraid  that 
I  might  be  won  over  by  the  opposition.  He  plucked  me 
by  my  wet  sleeve  and  directed  me  to  a  shanty  of  old 
boards  set  upon  a  platform  of  coral  rocks  four  feet 
from  the  bed  of  the  atoll.  In  its  single  room  on  a 
white  bedspread  were  a  dozen  loaves  of  bread,  crisp 
and  white,  and  smelhng  appetizingly.  He  lifted  one, 
squeezed  it  to  show  its  sponginess,  and  put  it  to  my 
nose.     He  sniffed,  and  said,  "She  the  greata  coo-ooka." 

I  guessed  that  he  referred  to  himself  as  the  baker. 
He  pointed  out  toward  the  schooner  and  made  me 
understand  that  this  baking  was  a  present  to  me.  I 
was  embarrassed,  and  with  many  flourishes  explained 
that  the  Tahitian  cook  of  the  Marara  could  not  be  com- 
pared with  him  as  a  bread-maker,  but  that  he  was  of 
a  jealous  disposition  and  might  resent  bitterly  the  gift. 
My  companion  was  cast  down  for  a  moment,  but  bright- 
ened with  another  idea.  Through  a  hundred  yards 
more  of  coral  bones  we  plowed  to  his  oven,  a  huge,  coral 
stove  like  a  lime-kiln,  with  a  roof,  and  bags  of  Victor 


36  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

flour  from  the  Pacific  Coast  beside  it.  PridefuUy  he 
made  me  note  everything,  as  an  artist  might  his  studio. 

Momuni  then  touched  my  arm,  and  said,  ^'^Haere! 
We  can  do." 

We  walked  along  the  beach  of  the  lagoon  and  found 
a  road  that  paralleled  the  one  we  had  come.  It  was 
lower  than  the  other  and  the  rain  had  flooded  it.  The 
water  was  brown  and  stagnant,  even  red  in  pools,  like 
blood.  Uncanny  things  shot  past  my  feet  or  crawled 
upon  them,  and  once  something  that  had  not  the  feel 
of  anything  I  knew  of  climbed  the  calf  of  my  leg,  and 
when  I  turned  and  saw  it  dimly  I  leaped  into  the  air  and 
kicked  it  off.     I  heard  it  plop  into  the  dark  water. 

Down  this  marsh  we  plodded  and  paddled,  floundered 
and  splashed  for  half  a  mile.  The  cocoanut-palms 
arched  across  it,  but  there  was  not  a  person  nor  a  habita- 
tion in  view.  I  wondered  why  "she  the  great  cook" 
had  led  me  into  this  morass.  Momuni  looked  at  me 
mysteriously  several  times,  and  his  lips  moved  as  if  he 
had  been  about  to  speak. 

He  studied  my  countenance  attentively,  and  several 
times  he  patted  and  rubbed  my  back  affectionately  and 
said,  "You  damafina."  Then,  slimy  and  sloppy  as  I 
was,  covered  with  the  foul  water  up  to  my  waist,  when 
we  were  in  the  darkest  spot  Momuni  halted  and  drew 
me  under  a  palm. 

He  would  either  seek  to  borrow  money  or  to  cut 
my  throat,  I  thought  hastily.  Again  he  scanned  me 
closely,  and  I,  to  soften  his  heart  and  avert  the  evil, 
tried  to  appear  firm  and  unafraid.  To  my  astonish- 
ment he  took  from  his  pocket  five  five-franc  notes,  those 
ugly,   red-inked   bills   which    are    current   in   all   the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  87 

Etahlissements  Franfais  de  VOceanie,  and  held  them 
under  my  nose.  He  smiled  and  then  made  the  motion 
of  pulling  a  cork,  and  of  a  bottle's  contents  gurgling 
through  his  loose  mouth  and  down  his  long  neck. 

I  shuddered  at  my  thoughts.  Could  it  be  that  in  this 
dry  atoll,  with  intoxicants  forbidden,  and  prison  the 
penalt}'^  of  selling  or  giving  them  to  a  native,  this  hospi- 
table Niauan  had  offered  me  his  bread  and  shown  me  his 
oven,  and  the  glories  of  the  isle,  and  was  displaying 
those  five  red  notes  to  seduce  me  into  breaking  the  law, 
into  smuggling  ashore  a  bottle  of  rum  or  wine? 

I  was  determined  to  know  the  worst.  I  drew  from 
my  drawers  (I  had  worn  no  trousers)  an  imaginary 
corkscrew,  and  from  my  undershirt  an  unsubstantial 
bottle.  I  pulled  a  supposititious  cork,  and  took  a  long 
drink  of  the  unreal  elixir.  Momurd  was  transfixed. 
His  jaws  worked,  and  his  tongue  extended.  He 
squeezed  my  hand  with  happiness  and  hope,  and  left 
in  it  the  five  scarlet  tokens  of  the  Banque  de  Vlndo- 
Chine. 

*'Wina  damafina;  rumma  damafina,"  he  confided. 
The  man  would  be  content  with  anything,  so  it  bit  his 
throat  and  made  him  a  king  for  an  evil  hour. 

Tome  was  dealing  out  tobacco  when  we  reached  his 
store.  His  wife  and  baby,  an  Irish-Penrhyn  baby, 
were  now  eating  a  can  of  salmon  and  Nabisco  wafers. 

"Who  is  this  gentleman,  Mr.  Eustace?"  I  asked, 
pointing  to  Momuni. 

"He  's  an  omadhaun,  a  nuisance,  that  he  is,  sure," 
said  Tome.  "He 's  a  Mormon  deacon  that  peddles 
bread  an'  buys  his  flour  from  some  one  else  because  I 
won't  trust  him.     He  's  the  only  Mormon  in  this  blessed 


38  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

island.  Every  last  soul  is  a  Roman  Cat'lic,  except  me, 
and  I  'm  a  believer  in  the  leprechawn.  Has  that  hooli- 
gan been  thryin'  to  work  ye  for  a  bottle  of  rum?  He  '11 
talk  a  day  for  a  drink." 

"What 's  Momuni  and  Popay?'' 

^'Momwni  is  the  way  they  say  'Mormons.'  The 
other's  the  pope  wid  the  accint  on  the  last  syllable. 
It 's  the  name  for  Cat'lics  all  over  these  seas,  because 
they  worship  the  pope  iv  Rome.  The  Popays  run  this 
island,  but  the  Momunis  have  got  Takaroa  and  some 
others  by  the  tail." 

I  turned  to  look  at  my  guide,  the  bread-maker.  I 
had  new  admiration  for  him.  It  took  courage  to  be  the 
one  Mormon  among  a  hundred  Catholics,  and  to  try 
to  sell  them  the  staff  of  life.  But  he  could  not  with- 
stand the  withering  glances  of  Tome,  and  fled,  with 
gestures  to  me  which  I  could  only  hazard  to  mean  to 
meet  him  later  in  the  fearsome  swamp,  with  the  rvmi. 

"Does  Momuni  owe  you  any  money?"  I  asked  the 
trader,  who  was  lighting  his  wife's  cigarette. 

"Does  he?  He  owes  me  forty  francs  for  flour,  and 
I  '11  nivir  see  the  shadow  iv  them.  I  '11  tell  ye,  though, 
he  's  the  best  baker  in  the  Group,  an'  they  're  crazy 
about  his  bread." 

Eustace  had  no  cargo  for  us,  and  McHenry  and  I 
caught  the  last  boat  for  the  Marara,  Moet  having  stayed 
for  one  trip  only. 

"Come  an'  shtay  wid  us  a  month  or  two,"  said  Tome 
in  farewell.  "We  '11  make  ye  happy  and  find  ye  a 
sweetheart!  'T  is  here  ye  can  shpend  yer  valibil  time 
doin'  nawthin'  at  all,  at  all." 

He  laughed  heartily  at  his  joke  on  virtue,  and  as  we 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  39 

dashed  through  the  surf  to  climb  into  the  boat  I  turned 
to  see  him  telling  the  assembling  villagers  some  story 
that  might  provoke  a  laugh  and  keep  their  copra  a  mo- 
nopoly for  him. 


CHAPTER  III 

Perilous  navigation — Curious  green  sky — Arrival  at  Anaa — Religion  and 
the   movies — Character   of   Paumotuans. 

A  CURRENT  set  against  us  all  night.  Now  I 
understood  fully  the  alarms  and  misgivings 
that  had  caused  the  first  and  following  dis- 
coverers of  the  "Pernicious  Islands"  to  curse  them  by 
the  titles  they  gave  them.  Our  current  was  of  the 
mischievous  sort  that  upset  logarithms  and  dead  reckon- 
ing, and  put  ships  ashore. 

"This  group  is  a  graveyard  of  vessels,"  said  Mc- 
Henry,  "and  there  'd  be  ten  times  as  many  wrecked, 
if  they  come  here.  Wait  till  you  see  the  County  of 
Roxburgh  at  Takaroa!  I  've  been  cruisin'  round  here 
more  'n  twenty  years,  and  I  never  saw  the  current  the 
same.  The  Frog  Government  at  Papeete  is  always 
talkin'  about  puttin'  lighthouses  on  a  half-dozen  of  tliese 
atolls,  -but  does  nothin'.  Maybe  the  chief  or  a  trader 
hangs  a  lantern  on  top  of  his  house  when  he  expects  a 
cargo  for  him,  but  you  can't  trust  those  lights,  and 
you  can't  see  them  in  time  to  keep  from  hittin'  the  reef. 
There  's  no  leeway  to  run  from  a  wind  past  beating. 
It 's  lee  shore  in  some  bloody  direction  all  the  time. 

"There  's  a  foot  or  two  between  high  and  low,  and 
it 's  low  in  the  lagoon  when  the  moon  is  full.  It 's 
high  when  the  moon  rises  and  when  it  sets.  In  atolls 
where  there  's  a  pass  into  the  lagoon,  there  's  a  hell 

40 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  41 

of  a  current  in  the  lagoon  at  the  lowerin'  tide,  and  in 
the  sea  near  the  lagoon  when  the  tide  is  risiii'. 
We're  goin'  to  beat  those  tides  with  engines. 
In  five  years  every  schooner  in  the  group  will  have  an 
auxiliary.  There's  only  one  now,  the  Fetia  Taiao,  and 
she  's  brand  new.  It  used  to  be  canoes,  and  then  whale- 
boats,  and  then  cutters  here,  and  purty  soon  it  '11  be 
gasolene  schooners." 

Then  will  the  cry  arise  that  romance  has  perished  of 
artificiahty.  But  the  heart  of  man  is  always  the  same, 
and  nothing  kills  romance  but  sloth. 

We  battled  with  the  current  and  a  fresh  wind  during 
the  long,  dark  hours,  Jean  Moet  never  leaving  the  deck, 
and  I  keeping  him  company.  Below  on  a  settee  Vir- 
ginie  said  her  beads  or  slept.  I  could  see  her  by  the 
smudgy  cabin  lamp,  and  hear  her  call  to  her  husband  two 
or  three  times,  hours  apart,  "(!a  va  hien?''  Jean  would 
answer  in  Tahitian,  as  to  a  sailor,  "Maitaif  and  invari- 
ably would  follow  his  mechanical  reply,  with  ''Et  tot, 
dors-tu?" 

Ever  light-hearted,  currents  nor  squalls  could  burden 
his  Gascon  spirit.  He  looked  at  the  stars,  and  he 
looked  at  the  water,  he  consulted  with  the  mate,  and 
gave  orders  to  the  steersman. 

''Eh  h*en/*  he  said  to  me,  "moi,  I  am  comme  monsieur 
ze  gouverneur  ov  ze  Paumotu  who  live  een  Favarava, 
over  zere."  He  pointed  into  the  darkness.  "  'E  'as  a 
leetle  schoonaire  an'  'e  keep  ze  court  and  ze  calaboose, 
hot  mos'ly  'e  lis'en  to  ze  musique  an'  make  ze  dance. 
La  vie  est  triste;  vive  la  bagatelle!  Maybee  we  pick 
op  Anaa  in  ze  morning.  Eef  not,  amigo  mio,  Virginia 
she  weel  pray  for  nous  both. 


42  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Anaa,  or  Chain  Island,  as  Captain  Cook  named  it  be- 
cause of  its  eleven  motus  or  islets,  strung  like  emeralds 
and  pearls  in  a  rosary,  was  not  visible  at  daybreak,  but 
as  I  studied  the  horizon  the  sky  turned  to  a  brilliant 
green.  I  thought  some  dream  of  that  Tir-na'n-Og 
spoken  of  by  Tome  in  Niau  obsessed  me.  I  turned  my 
back  and  waited  for  my  eyes  to  right  themselves.  One 
sees  green  in  the  rainbow  and  green  in  the  sunset,  but 
never  had  I  known  a  morning  sky  to  be  of  such  a  hue. 
McHenry  came  on  deck  in  his  pajamas,  and  looked 
about. 

"Erin  go  hragh!"  he  remarked.  "Ireland  is  castin' 
a  shadow  on  the  bloody  heaven.  There,"  he  pointed,  "is 
the  sight  o'  the  bleedin'  world.  You  've  never  seen  it 
before  an'  you  won't  see  it  again,  unless  you  come  to 
Anaa  in  the  mornin'  or  evenin'  of  a  purty  clear  day. 
It 's  the  shinin'  of  the  lagoon  of  Anaa  in  the  sky,  an' 
it 's  nowhere  else  on  the  ball.  There  's  many  a  Kanaka 
in  'is  canoe  outa  sight  o'  land  has  said  a  prayer  to  his 
god  when  he  seen  that  green.  He  knew  he  was  near 
Anaa.  You  can  see  that  shine  thirty  or  thirty-five 
miles  away,  hours  before  you  raise  the  atoll." 

Some  curious  relation  of  the  lagoon  to  the  sky  had 
painted  this  hazy  lawn  on  high.  It  was  like  a  great 
field  of  luscious  grass,  at  times  filmy,  paling  to  the  color 
of  absinthe  touched  with  water,  and  again  a  true  aqua- 
marine, as  I  have  seen  the  bay  of  Todos  Santos,  at  En- 
senada  of  Lower  California.  Probably  it  is  th^  shal- 
lowness of  the  waters,  which  in  this  lagoon  are  strangely 
different  from  most  of  the  inland  basins  of  the  South 
Sea  Isles.  To  these  mariners,  who  moved  their  little 
boats  between  them,  the  mirage  was  famed;  and  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  48 

natives  had  many  a  legend  of  its  origin  and  cause,  and  of 
their  kind  being  saved  from  starvation  or  thirst  by  its 
kindly  glint. 

McHenry  called  down  the  companionway,  "Hey, 
monster,  you  can  see  the  grass  on  Anaa.     Vite-vite!" 

Moet,  who  was  below,  drinking  a  cup  of  coffee,  leaped 
up  the  companionway.  He  called  out  swift  orders  to 
go  over  on  the  other  tack,  and  headed  straight  for  the 
mirage.  The  schooner  heeled  to  the  breeze,  now  fresh- 
ening as  the  sun  became  hotter,  and  we  reeled  off  six 
or  seven  knots  with  all  canvas  drawing.  In  an  hour 
the  celestial  plot  of  green  had  vanished,  fading  out 
slowly  as  we  advanced,  and  we  began  to  glimpse  the 
cocoanuts  on  the  beach,  though  few  trees  showed  on 
the  sky-line,  and  they  were  twisted  as  in  travail. 

Anaa,  as  others  of  these  islands  and  Tahiti,  too,  had 
suffered  terribly  by  a  cyclone  a  few  years  ago.  More 
than  any  other  island  of  this  group  Anaa  had  felt  the 
devastating  force  of  the  matai  rorofai,  the  "wind  that 
kills" — the  wind  that  slew  Lovaina's  son  and  made  her 
cut  her  hair  in  mourning.  Hikueru  lost  more  people, 
because  there  were  many  there;  but  Anaa  was 
mangled  and  torn  as  a  picador's  horse  by  the  horns  of 
the  angry  bull.  A  half-mile  away  we  could  plainly 
see  the  havoc  of  wind  and  wave.  The  reef  itself  had 
been  broken  away  in  places,  and  coral  rocks  as  big  as 
houses  hurled  upon  the  beach. 

"I  was  there  just  after  the  cyclone,"  said  McHenry. 
"It  was  a  bloomin'  garden  before  then,  Anaa.  It  was 
the  only  island  in  the  Paumotus  in  which  they  grew 
most  of  the  fruits  as  in  Tahiti,  the  breadfruit,  the 
banana,  the  orange,  lime,  mango,  and  others.     It  may 


44  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

be  an  older  island  than  the  others  or  more  protected 
usually  from  the  wind;  but,  anyhow,  it  had  the  richest 
soil.  The  Anaa  people  were  just  like  children,  happy 
and  singin'  all  the  time.  That  damned  storm  knocked 
them  galley-west.  It  tore  a  hole  in  the  island,  as  you 
can  see,  killed  a  hundred  people,  and  ended  their  pros- 
perity. There  was  a  Catholic  church  of  coral,  old  and 
bloody  fine,  and  when  I  got  here  a  week  after  the  cy- 
clone I  could  n't  find  the  spot  where  the  foundations 
had  been.  I  came  with  the  vessels  the  Government 
sent  to  help  the  people.  You  never  seen  such  a  sight. 
The  most  of  the  dead  were  blown  into  the  lagoon  or  lay 
under  big  hunks  of  coral.  People  with  crushed  heads 
and  broken  legs  and  arms  and  ribs  were  strewn  all 
around.  The  bare  reef  is  where  the  village  was,  and 
the  people  who  went  into  the  church  to  be  safe  were 
swept  out  to  sea  with  it." 

As  at  Niau,  the  schooner  lay  off  the  shore,  and  the 
long-boat  was  lowered.  In  it  were  placed  the  cargo, 
and  with  Moet,  McHenry,  and  me,  men,  women,  and 
children  passengers,  four  oarsmen  and  the  boat-steerer, 
it  was  completely  filled,  we  sitting  again  on  the  boxes. 

Once  more  the  Flying  Fish  towed  the  boat  very  near 
to  the  beach,  and  at  the  cry  of  "Let  go!"  flung  away 
the  rope's  end  and  left  us  to  the  oars.  The  passage 
through  the  reef  of  Anaa  was  not  like  that  of  Niau. 
There  was  no  pit,  but  a  mere  depression  in  the  rocks, 
and  it  took  the  nicest  manoeuvering  to  send  the  boat  in 
the  exact  spot.  As  we  approached,  the  huge  boulders 
lowered  upon  us,  threatening  to  smash  us  to  pieces,  and 
we  backed  water  and  waited  for  the  psychological  mo- 
ment.    The  surf  was  strong,  rolling  seven  or  eight  feet 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  45 

high,  and  crashing  on  the  stone  with  a  menacing  roar, 
but  the  boat-steerer  wore  a  smile  as  he  shouted,  "Tamau 
te  paina!" 

The  oars  lurched  forward  in  the  water,  the  boat  rose 
on  the  wave,  and  onward  we  surged;  over  the  reef, 
scraping  a  little,  avoiding  the  great  rocks  by  inches  al- 
most, and  into  milder  water.  The  sailors  leaped  out, 
and  with  the  next  wave  pulled  the  boat  against  the 
smoother  strand;  but  it  was  all  coral,  all  rough  and  all 
dangerous,  and  I  considered  well  the  situation  before 
leaving  the  boat.  I  got  out  in  two  feet  of  water  and 
raced  the  next  breaker  to  the  higher  beach,  my  camera 
tied  on  my  head. 

There  was  no  beach,  as  we  know  the  word — only  a 
jumbled  mass  of  coral  humps,  millions  of  shells,  some 
whole,  most  of  them  broken  into  bits,  and  the  rest  mere 
coarse  sand.  On  this  were  scattered  enormous  masses 
of  coral,  these  pieces  of  the  primitive  foundation  up- 
heaved and  divided  by  the  breakers  when  the  cyclone 
blew.  The  hand  of  a  Titan  had  crushed  them  into 
shapeless  heaps  and  thrown  them  hundreds  of  feet  to- 
ward the  interior,  the  waves  washing  away  the  soil, 
destroying  all  vegetation,  and  laying  bare  the  crude 
floor  of  the  island.  From  the  water's  edge  I  walked 
over  this  waste,  gleaming  white  or  milky,  for  a  hundred 
yards  before  I  reached  the  copra  shed  of  Lacour,  a 
French  trader,  and  sat  down  to  rest.  The  sailors  bore 
the  women  and  children  on  their  shoulders  to  safety,  and 
then  commenced  the  landing  of  the  merchandise  for  La- 
cour. Flour  and  soap,  sugar,  biscuit,  canned  goods, 
lamps,  piece  goods;  gauds  and  gewgaws,  cheap  jewelry, 
beads,  straw  for  making  hats,  perfumes  and  shawls. 


46  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Lacour,  pale  beneath  his  deep  tan,  black-haired  and 
slender,  greeted  us  at  the  shed  with  the  dead-and-alive 
manner  of  many  of  these  island  exiles,  born  of  torrid 
heat,  long  silences,  and  weariness  of  the  driven  flesh. 
A  cluster  of  women  lounged  under  a  tohonu  tree,  the 
only  shade  near-by,  and  they  smiled  at  me  and  said, 
^'la  or  a  na  oe!" 

I  strolled  inland.  It  was  an  isle  of  desolation,  rav- 
aged years  ago,  but  prostrated  still,  swept  as  by  a  gi- 
gantic flail.  Everywhere  I  beheld  the  results  of  the 
cataclysm. 

Picking  up  shells  and  bits  of  coral  at  haphazard,  I 
came  upon  the  bone  of  a  child,  the  forearm,  bleached 
by  wind  and  rain.  Few  of  the  bodies  of  the  drowned 
had  been  interred  with  prayer,  but  found  a  last  resting- 
place  under  the  coral  debris  or  in  the  maws  of  the  sharks 
that  rode  upon  the  cyclone's  back  in  search  of  prey. 

It  was  very  hot.  These  low  atolls  were  always  ex- 
cessively warm,  but  not  humid.  It  was  a  dry  heat. 
The  reflection  of  the  sunlight  on  the  blocks  of  coral  and 
the  white  sand  made  a  glare  that  was  painful  to  whites, 
and  made  colored  glasses  necessary  to  shield  their  eyes. 
Temporary  blindness  was  common  among  new-comers, 
thus  unprotected. 

I  walked  miles  and  never  lost  the  evidence  of  violence 
and  loss.  There  was  an  old  man  by  a  coral  pen,  in 
which  were  three  thin,  measly  pigs,  a  grayish  yellow  in 
color.     He  showed  me  to  a  small,  wooden  church. 

"There  are  four  Cathohc  churches  in  Anaa,"  he  said, 
"with  one  priest,  and  there  are  three  hundred  souls  all 
told  in  this  island.  The  priest  goes  about  to  the  dif- 
ferent churches,  but  money  is  scarce.     This  New  Year 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  47 

the  contribution  was  so  trifling,  the  priest,  who  knew  the 
bishop  in  Papeete  would  demand  an  accounting,  sent 
word  to  know  why — and  what  do  you  think  he  got  back? 
That  Lacour,  the  trader,  with  his  accursed  cinemato- 
graph, had  taken  all  the  money.  He  charged  twenty- 
five  cocoanuts  to  see  the  views  in  his  copra  shed,  and 
they  are  wonderful;  but  the  churches  are  empty.  We 
are  all  Katorika," 

"Katorikar  I  queried.     "That  is  Popay?" 

The  old  man  frowned. 

"Popay!  That  is  what  the  Porotetani  [Protestants] 
call  the  Katorika.  I  am  the  priest's  right  hand.  But 
we  are  poor,  and  Lacour,  with  his  store  and  now  with 
his  machine  that  sets  the  people  wild  over  cowaboyas, 
and  shows  them  the  Farani  [French]  and  the  Amariti 
[Americans]  in  their  own  islands — ^there  is  no  money 
for  the  church." 

I  interrupted  the  jeremiad  of  the  ancient  acolyte. 

"Was  there  nothing  left  of  the  old  church?"  I  asked. 

The  hater  of  cinematographs  took  me  into  the  humble 
wooden  structure,  and  there  were  a  bronze  crucifix  and 
silver  candlesticks  that  had  been  in  the  coral  edifice. 

"I  saved  them,"  he  said  proudly.  "When  I  saw  the 
wind  was  too  great,  when  the  church  began  to  rock,  I 
took  them  and  buried  them  in  a  hole  I  dug.  I  did  this 
before  I  climbed  the  tree  which  saved  me  from  the  big 
wave.  Ah,  that  was  a  real  cathedral.  The  people  of 
Anaa  are  changed.  The  best  died  in  the  storm.  They 
want  now  to  know  what  is  going  on  in  Papeete,  the 
great  world." 

A  hundred  years  ago  the  people  of  Anaa  erected  three 
temples  to  the  god  of  the  Christians.     For  a  century 


48  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

they  have  had  the  Jewish  and  Christian  scriptures. 

Anaa  had  witnessed  a  bitter  struggle  between  con- 
tending churches  to  win  adherents.  When  France  took 
hold,  France  was  Catholic,  and  the  priests  had  every  op- 
portunity and  assistance  to  do  their  pious  work.  The 
schools  were  taught  by  Catholic  nuns.  Their  govern- 
mental subsidy  made  it  difficult  for  the  English  Prot- 
estants to  proselytize,  and  with  grief  they  saw  their 
flocks  going  to  Rome.  Only  the  most  zealous  Protes- 
tant missionaries  were  unshaken  by  the  change.  When 
the  anti-clerical  feeling  in  France  triumphed,  the  Con- 
cordat was  broken,  and  the  schools  laicized,  the  priests 
and  nuns  in  these  colonies  were  ousted  from  the  schools ; 
the  Catholic  church  was  not  only  not  favored,  but,  in 
many  instances,  was  hindered  by  officials  who  were  of 
anti-clerical  feelings.  The  Protestant  sects  took  heart 
again,  and  made  great  headway.  The  Mormons  re- 
turned, the  Seventh  Day  Adventists  became  active,  and 
many  nominal  Catholics  fell  away.  The  fact  was  that 
it  was  not  easy  to  keep  Polynesians  at  any  heat  of  re- 
ligion. They  wanted  entertainment  and  amusement, 
and  if  a  performancfe  of  a  religious  rite,  a  sermon,  re- 
vival, conference,  or  other  solace  or  diversion  was  not 
offered,  they  inclined  to  seek  relaxation  and  even  pleas- 
ure where  it  might  be  had.  Monotony  was  the  sub- 
stance of  their  days,  and  relief  welcomed  in  the  most 
trifling  incident  or  change. 

Lacour's  wife,  granddaughter  of  a  Welshman  but  all 
native  in  appearance,  sat  with  the  other  women  under 
the  tohonu  tree  when  I  returned.  I  had  seen  thousands 
of  fallen  cocoanut-trees  rotting  in  the  swamps,  and  had 
climbed  over  the  coral  fields  for  several  miles.     There 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  49 

was  no  earth,  only  coral  and  shells  and  white  shell-sand. 
Chickens  evidently  picked  up  something  to  eat,  for  I 
saw  a  dozen  of  them.  In  the  lagoon,  fish  darted  to  and 
fro. 

Lacour's  wife  had  a  yellowish  baby  in  her  lap,  and 
she  wore  earrings,  a  wedding-ring,  and  a  necklace  and 
bracelets. 

The  boat  was  plying  from  the  schooner  to  the  shore, 
and  I  watched  its  progress.  Piri  a  Tuahine  held  the 
steering  oar,  laughing,  calling  to  his  fellows  to  pull  or 
not  to  pull,  as  I  could  see  through  a  glass.  A  current 
affected  the  surf,  increasing  or  decreasing  its  force  at 
intervals,  and  it  was  now  at  its  height.  The  boat  en- 
tered the  passage  on  a  crest,  but  a  following  wave  struck 
it  hard,  turned  it  broadside,  and  all  but  over.  A  flood 
entered  the  boat,  but  the  men  leaped  out  and,  though 
up  to  their  shoulders  in  the  water,  held  it  firm,  and 
finally  drew  it  close  to  the  beach.  The  flour  and  the 
boxes  and  beds  of  native  passengers  were  wetted,  but 
they  ran  to  the  boat  and  carried  their  belongings  near 
to  the  copra  shed,  and  spread  them  to  dry.  Lacour 
cursed  the  boat  and  the  sailors. 

Near  Lacour's  store  was  a  house,  in  which  lived  Cap- 
tain Nimau,  owner  of  a  small  schooner.  Nimau  invited 
me  to  sleep  there  and  see  the  moving  pictures.  We  had 
brought  Lacour  a  reel  or  so,  and  in  anticipation,  the 
people  of  Anaa  had  been  gathering  cocoanuts  for  a  week. 
The  films  were  old  ones  that  Tahiti  had  wearied  of,  and 
Lacour  got  them  for  a  trifle.  The  theater  was  his  copra 
house,  and  there  were  no  seats  nor  need  of  them. 

He  set  the  hour  of  seven  for  the  show,  and  I  alone 
stayed  ashore  for  it.     By  six  o'clock  the  residents  began 


50  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

flocking  to  the  shed  with  their  entrance-fees.  Each  bore 
upon  his  back  twenty-five  cocoanuts,  some  in  bags  and 
others  with  the  nuts  tied  on  a  pole  by  their  husk. 
Fathers  carried  double  or  even  triple  quantities  for  their 
little  ones,  and  each,  as  he  arrived  at  Lacour's,  counted 
the  nuts  before  the  trader. 

The  women  brought  their  own  admission  tickets. 
The  acolyte,  who  had  inveighed  against  the  cinemato- 
graph, was  second  in  line,  and  secured  the  best  squat- 
ting space.     His  own  cocoanuts  were  in  Lacour's  bin. 

When  the  screen  was  erected  and  the  first  picture 
flashed  upon  it,  few  of  the  people  of  Anaa  were  absent, 
and  Lacour's  copra  heap  was  piled  high.  There  were 
a  hundred  and  sixty  people  present,  and  four  thousand 
nuts  in  the  box-office. 

The  first  film  was  concerned  with  the  doings  of  Nich 
Winter,  an  English  detective  in  France,  a  burlesque  of 
Sherlock  Holmes,  and  other  criminal  literatures.  The 
spectators  could  not  make  a  head  nor  tail  of  it, 
but  they  enjoyed  the  scenes  hugely  and  were 
intensely  mystified  by  many  pictures.  An  auto- 
mobile, which,  by  the  trickery  of  the  camera,  was 
made  to  appear  to  climb  the  face  of  a  sky-scraper, 
raised  cries  of  astonishment  and  assertions  of  diablerie. 
The  devil  was  a  very  real  power  to  South  Sea  Islanders, 
whether  they  were  Christians  or  not,  and  they  had 
fashioned  a  composite  devil  of  our  horned  and  cloven- 
hoofed  chap  and  their  own  demons,  who  was  made  re- 
sponsible for  most  trouble  and  disaster  that  came  to 
them,  and  whose  machinations  explained  sleight  of 
hand,  and  even  the  vagaries  of  moving  pictures. 

What  pleased  them  most  were  cow-boy  pictures,  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  51 

melodramatic  life  of  the  Wild  West  of  America,  with 
bucking  bronchos,  flying  lassos,  painted  Indians  whom 
they  thought  tattooed,  and  dashes  of  vaqueros,  border 
sheriffs,  and  maidens  who  rode  cayuses  hke  Comanches. 
Tahiti  was  daft  over  cow-boys,  and  had  adopted  that 
word  into  the  language,  and  these  Anaans  were  vastly 
taken  by  the  same  hfe.  Lacour  explained  the  pictures 
as  they  unrolled,  shouting  any  meanings  he  thought 
might  pass;  and  I  doubted  if  he  himself  knew  much 
about  them,  for  later  he  asked  me  if  all  cow-boys  were 
not  Spaniards. 

This  was  the  first  moving  picture  machine  in  these 
islands.  Lacour  had  only  had  it  a  few  weeks.  He 
purposed  taking  it  through  the  Group  on  a  cutter  that 
would  transport  the  cocoanut  receipts.  Lacour,  Nimau, 
and  I  sat  up  late.  These  Frenchmen  save  for  a  few 
exceptions  were  as  courteous  as  at  home.  Peasants  or 
sailors  in  France,  they  brought  and  improved  with  their 
position  that  striking  cosmopolitan  spirit  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  Gaul,  be  he  ever  so  uneducated.  The 
English  and  American  trader  was  suspicious,  sullen  or 
blatant,  vulgar  and  often  brutal  in  manner.  The 
Frenchman  had  bonhomie,  politeness.  England  and 
America  in  the  South  Seas  considered  this  a  weakness, 
and  aimed  at  the  contrary.  Manners,  of  course,  origi- 
nated in  France. 

"This  island  is  on  the  French  map  as  La  Chaine/* 
said  Captain  Nimau,  "but  we  who  traverse  these  seas 
always  use  the  native  names.  Those  old  admirals  who 
took  word  to  their  king  that  they  had  discovered  new 
islands  always  said,  too,  that  they  had  named  them 
after  the  king  or  some  saint.     A  Spaniard  selected  a 


52  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

nice  name  like  the  Blessed  Sacrament  or  the  Holy 
Mother  of  God,  or  some  Spanish  saint,  while  a  French- 
man chose  something  to  show  the  shape  or  color  of  the 
land.  The  Englishman  usually  named  his  find  after 
some  place  at  home,  hke  New  England,  New  Britain, 
and  so  on.  But  we  don't  give  a  sacre  for  those  names. 
How  could  we?  All  those  fellows  claimed  to  have  been 
here  first,  and  so  all  islands  have  two  or  three  European 
names.  We  who  have  to  pick  them  up  in  the  night, 
or  escape  from  them  in  a  storm,  want  the  native  name 
as  we  need  the  native  knowledge  of  them.  The  land- 
marks, the  clouds,  the  smells,  the  currents,  the  passes, 
the  depths — those  are  the  items  that  save  or  lose  us 
our  lives  and  vessels.  Let  those  vieux  capitaines  fight 
it  out  below  for  the  honor  of  their  nomenclature  and 
precedence  of  discovery!" 

What  recriminations  in  Hades  between  Columbus 
and  Vespucci! 

"Take  this  whole  archipelago!"  continued  Nimau. 
"The  Tahitians  named  it  the  Poumotu  or  pillar  islands, 
because  to  them  the  atolls  seemed  to  rise  hke  white  trees 
from  the  sea.  But  the  name  sounded  to  the  people 
here  like  Paimiotu,  which  means  conquered  or  destroyed 
islands,  and  so,  after  a  few  petitions  or  requests  by 
proud  chiefs,  the  French  in  1852  ofiicially  named  them 
Tuamotu,  distant,  out  of  view,  or  below  the  horizon. 
That  was  more  than  a  half  century  ago,  but  we  still  call 
them  the  Paimiotu.  There  's  nothing  harder  to  change 
than  the  old  names  of  places.  You  can  change  a  man's 
or  a  whole  island's  religion  much  easier." 

Near  the  little  hut  in  which  we  were,  Nimau's  house, 
a  bevy  of  girls  smoked  cigarettes  and  talked  about  me. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  53 

They  had  learned  that  I  was  not  a  sailor,  not  one  of 
the  crew  of  the  Marara,  and  not  a  trader.  What  could 
I  be,  then,  but  a  missionary,  as  I  was  not  an  official, 
because  not  French?  But  I  was  not  a  Catholic  mis- 
sionary, for  they  wore  black  gowns ;  and  I  could  not  be 
Mormoni  nor  Konito,  because  there  in  public  I  was 
with  the  Frenchmen,  drinking  beer.  Two,  who  were 
handsome,  brown,  with  teeth  as  brilUant  as  the  heart  of 
the  nacre,  and  eyes  and  hair  like  the  husks  of  the  ripe 
cocoanut,  came  into  the  house  and  questioned  Lacour. 

"They  want  to  know  what  you  are  doing  here,"  inter- 
preted Lacour. 

"I  am  not  here  to  make  money  nor  to  preach  the 
Gospel,"  I  replied. 

The  yoimger  came  to  me  and  put  her  arms  about 
me,  and  said :  "Ei  aha  e  reva  a  noho  io  nei!"  And  that 
meant,  "Stay  here  always  and  rest  with  me!" 

After  a  while  the  acolyte  joined  us,  and  I  put  them 
all  many  questions. 

The  Paumotuans  were  a  quiet  people,  dour,  or  at 
least  serious  and  contemplative.  They  were  not  like 
the  Tahitians,  laugh-loving,  light-hearted,  frenzied 
dancers,  orators,  music  worshipers,  f casters.  The  Tahi- 
tians had  the  joy  of  living,  though  with  the  melancholy 
strain  that  permeated  all  Polynesia.  The  folk  of  the 
Dangerous  Archipelago  were  silent,  brooding,  and  re- 
ligious. The  perils  they  faced  in  their  general  vocation 
of  diving,  and  from  cyclones,  which  annihilated  entire 
populations  of  atolls,  had  made  them  intensely  suscep- 
tible to  fears  of  hell-fire  and  to  hopes  of  heaven.  The 
rather  Moslem  paradise  of  Mormonism  made  strong  ap- 
peal, but  was  offset  by  the  tortures  of  the  damned. 


54  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

limned  by  other  earnest  clerics  who  preached  the  old 
Wesley- Spurgeon  everlasting  suffering  for  all  not  of 
their  sect. 

Had  religion  never  affected  the  Paumotuans,  their 
food  would  have  made  them  a  distinct  and  a  restrained 
people.  We  all  are  creatures  of  our  nourishment. 
The  Tahitians  had  a  plentitude  of  varied  and  delicious 
food,  a  green  and  sympathetic  landscape,  a  hundred 
waterfalls  and  gentle  rills.  The  inhabitants  of  these 
low  isles  had  cocoanut  and  fish  as  staples,  and  often 
their  only  sustenance  for  years.  No  streams  meander 
these  stony  beds,  but  rain-water  must  be  caught,  or 
dependence  placed  on  the  brackish  pools  and  shallow 
wells  in  the  porous  rocks  or  compressed  sand,  which 
ebbed  and  flowed  with  the  tides. 

To  a  Tahitian  his  brooks  were  his  club,  where  often 
he  sat  or  lay  in  the  laughing  water,  his  head  crowned 
with  flowers,  dreaming  of  a  life  of  serene  idleness. 
Once  or  twice  a  day  he  must  bathe  thoroughly.  He 
was  clean;  his  skin  was  aglow  with  the  effect  of  air 
and  water.  No  European  could  teach  him  hygiene. 
He  was  a  perfect  animal,  untainted  and  unsoiled,  ac- 
customed to  laving  and  massage,  to  steam,  fresh,  and 
salt  baths,  when  Europeans,  kings,  courts,  and  com- 
moners went  unwashed  from  autimm  to  summer ;  when 
in  the  "Lois  de  la  Oalanterie/'  written  for  beaux  and 
dandies  in  1640,  it  was  enjoined  that  "every  day  one 
should  take  pains  to  wash  one's  hands,  and  one  should 
wash  one's  face  almost  as  often." 

Environment,  purling  rivulets  under  embowering 
trees,  the  most  enchanting  climate  between  pole  and 
pole,  a  simple  diet  but  little  clothing,  made  the  Tahitian 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  55 

and  Marquesan  the  handsomest  and  cleanest  races  in 
the  world.  Clothes  and  cold  are  an  iron  barrier  to 
cleanliness,  except  where  wealth  affords  comfort  and 
privacy.  Michelangelo  wore  a  pair  of  socks  many 
years  without  removing  them.  Our  grandfathers 
counted  a  habit  of  frequent  bathing  a  sign  of  weakness. 
In  old  New  England  many  baths  were  thought  con- 
ducive to  immorality,  by  some  line  of  logic  akin  to  that 
of  my  austere  aunt,  who  warned  me  that  oysters  led  to 
dancing. 

The  Paumotuan,  before  the  white  man  made  him  a 
mere  machine  for  gathering  copra  and  pearl-shell  and 
pearls,  had  a  very  distinct  culture,  savage  though  it 
was.  He  was  the  fabric  of  his  food  and  the  actions 
induced  in  him  by  necessity.  Elhs,  the  interesting  mis- 
sionary diarist  of  Tahiti  and  Hawaii,  recorded  that  in 
1817,  when  at  Afareaitu,  on  Moorea,  he  was  printing 
for  the  first  time  the  Bible  in  Tahitian  "among  the  vari- 
ous parties  in  Afareaitu  .  .  .  were  a  number  of  natives 
of  the  Paumotu,  or  Pearl  Islands,  which  lie  to  the  north- 
west of  Tahiti  and  constitute  what  is  called  the  Danger- 
ous Archipelago.  These  numerous  islands,  like  those  of 
Tetuaroa  to  the  north,  are  of  coralline  formation,  and 
the  most  elevated  parts  of  them  are  seldom  more  than 
two  or  three  feet  above  high  water  mark.  The  princi- 
pal, and  almost  only,  edible  vegetable  they  produce  is 
the  fruit  of  the  cocoanut.  On  these,  with  the  numerous 
kinds  of  fishes  resorting  to  their  shores  or  among  the 
coral  reefs,  the  inhabitants  entirely  subsist.  They  ap- 
pear a  hardy  and  industrious  race,  capable  of  enduring 
great  privations.  The  Tahitians  believe  them  to  be 
cannibals.  .  .  .  They  are  in  general  firm  and  muscular. 


56  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

but  of  a  more  spare  habit  of  body  than  the  Tahitians. 
Their  limbs  are  well  formed,  their  stature  generally 
tall.  The  expression  of  their  countenance,  and  the 
outline  of  their  features,  greatly  resemble  those  of  the 
Society  Islanders;  their  manners  are,  however,  more 
rude  and  uncourteous.  The  greater  part  of  the  body 
is  tattooed,  sometimes  in  broad  stripes,  at  others  in 
large  masses  of  black,  and  always  without  any  of  the 
taste  and  elegance  frequently  exhibited  in  the  figures 
marked  on  the  persons  of  the  Tahitians." 

One  who  traveled  much  in  the  isolated  parts  of  the 
world  was  often  struck  by  the  unfitness  of  certain  popu- 
lated places  to  support  in  any  comfort  and  safety  the 
people  who  generation  after  generation  persisted  in  liv- 
ing in  them.  For  thousands  of  years  the  slopes  of 
Vesuvius  have  been  cultivated  despite  the  imminent 
horror  of  the  volcano  above.  The  bmning  Paumotu 
atolls  are  as  undesirable  for  residences  as  the  desert  of 
Sahara.  Yet  the  hot  sands  are  peopled,  and  have  been 
for  ages,  and  in  the  recesses  of  the  frozen  North  the 
processes  of  birth  and  death,  of  love  and  greed,  are  as 
absorbing  as  in  the  Edens  of  the  earth.  Hateful  as  a 
lengthy  enforced  stay  in  the  Paumotus  might  be  to 
any  of  us,  I  have  seen  two  Paumotuan  youths  dwelling 
abroad  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives,  eating  delicious 
food  and  hardly  working  at  all,  weep  hours  upon  hours 
from  homesickness,  a  continuous  longing  for  their  atoll 
of  Puka-ruhu,  where  they  had  half  starved  since  birth, 
and  where  the  equatorial  typhoon  had  raped  time 
and  again.  Nature,  in  her  insistence  that  mankind 
shall  continue,  implanted  that  instinct  of  home  in  us 
as  one  of  the  most  powerful  agents  of  survival  of  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  57 

species.  Enduring  terrible  privation,  even,  we  learned 
to  love  the  scenes  of  our  sufferings.  Never  was  that 
better  exemplified  than  in  these  melancholy  and  mad- 
dening-atolls  of  the  half -browned  Archipelago. 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  copra  market — Dangerous  passage  to  shore  at  Kaukura — Our  boat 
overturns  in  the  pass — I  narrowly  escape  death — Josephite  Mis- 
sionaries— The  deadly  nohu — The  himene  at  night. 

WORD  we  got  at  Anaa  of  a  few  tons  of  copra 
at  Kaukura  sent  us  hurrying  there.  The 
wind  was  against  us,  and  we  drew  long  sides 
of  a  triangle  before  we  reached  that  atoll,  which  was, 
as  our  starting-point,  at  the  base  of  the  isosceles.  Kau- 
kura was  a  divergence  from  our  intended  course,  but 
these  schooners  were  like  birds  of  the  air,  which  must 
take  their  sustenance  as  fortune  wills.  Copra  was 
scarce,  and  competition  in  buying,  fierce.  The  natives 
received  about  four  cents  a  pound,  but  as  payment 
was  usually  in  goods,  the  Tahiti  traders,  who  shipped 
copra  to  America  and  Europe,  profited  heavily.  There 
were  grades  in  copra,  owing  to  the  carelessness  of  the 
natives  in  drying  it.  Green  or  poorly-dried  nuts 
shrank,  and  the  nuts  parched  in  kilns  developed  more 
undesirable  creosote  than  sun-dried.  All  copra  was 
sold  by  weight  and  quality,  and  it  continually  lessened 
in  weight  by  evaporation  of  oil.  Time  was  the  essence 
of  a  good  bargain.  The  sooner  to  the  presses  of  the 
mainland,  the  greater  the  return.  Crude  mills  in  the 
Paumotus  or  Tahiti  crushed  out  the  oil  formerly,  and 
it  was  sealed  in  bamboo  lengths,  and  these  exported. 
These  tubes,  air-tight,  were  common  mediimfis  of  ex- 
change, as  wampum  among  Indians,  or  gold-dust  in 

58 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  59 

Alaska.  Modern  processes  extracted  double  the  oil  of 
the  old  presses,  and  the  eight-foot  sections  of  the  long 
grass  were  almost  obsolete  for  cocoanut-oil,  and  used 
mostly  for  sauces  sold  in  the  Papeete  market-place. 

"Trade  ain't  what  it  was,"  said  McHenry.  "There's 
more  traders  than  natives,  almost.  I  remember  when 
they  were  so  crazy  to  exchange  our  stuff  for  their  prod- 
uce, we  'd  have  the  trade-room  crowded  all  day,  an* 
had  to  keep  guns  handy  to  chase  the  mob  away,  to  add 
up  the  bloody  figures.  Now  every  atoll  has  its  store, 
and  the  trader  has  to  pat  his  copra-makers  an'  divers 
on  the  back,  instead  o'  kickin'  them  the  way  we  used 
to.  The  damn  Frogs  treat  these  Kanakas  like  they  were 
white  people,  an'  have  spoiled  our  game.  We  can't 
trade  in  the  Paumotus  unless  the  schooner  has  a  French 
registry  and  a  French  captain, — Lyin'  Bill  is  a  Frog 
citizen  for  not  stealin'  a  vessel  he  had  a  chance  to, — 
an'  when  you  leave  the  Papeete  you  've  got  to  register 
every  last  drop  o'  booze  you  've  got  aboard.  It 's  sup- 
posed to  be  only  for  us  on  the  schooner,  and  for  the 
whites  in  the  Paumotus,  or  a  few  chieves  who  have 
permits,  for  bein'  Froggy.  But  it 's  the  rotten  mis- 
sionaries who  hurt  us,  really.  We  could  smuggle  it 
in,  but  they  tell  on  us." 

We  had  not  caught  a  fish  from  the  schooner,  despite 
having  a  tackle  rigged  most  of  the  days.  I  had  fixed 
a  bamboo  rod,  about  eighteen  feet  long  and  very  strong, 
on  the  rail  of  the  waist  of  the  vessel,  and  from  it  let 
trail  a  hundred  feet  or  so  of  tough  line.  The  hook  was 
the  most  perfect  for  the  purpose  ever  made  by  man. 
It  was  cut  out  of  the  mother-of-pearl  lining  of  the 
Paumotuan  pearl-oyster  shell.     It  was  about  six  inches 


60  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

long,  and  three  quarters  wide,  shaped  rudely  like  a 
flying-fish,  and  attached  to  it  on  the  concave  side  was 
a  barb  of  bone  about  an  inch  and  a  half  in  length,  fas- 
tened with  purau  fiber,  and  a  few  hog's  bristles  inserted. 
The  line  was  roved  through  the  hole  where  the  barb 
was  fastened,  and,  being  braided  along  the  inner  side 
of  the  pearl  shank,  was  tied  again  at  the  top,  forming 
a  chord  to  the  arch.  Unbaited,  the  hook,  by  the  pull 
of  the  schooner,  skipped  along  the  surface  of  the  sea 
like  a  flying-fish.  I  had  made  a  telltale  of  a  piece  of 
stick,  and  while  McHenry  and  I  talked  and  Jean  Moet 
slept  it  snapped  before  my  eyes.  To  seize  the  rod  and 
hold  on  was  the  act  of  a  second.  I  let  out  the  entire 
five  hundred  feet  of  line,  before  the  fish  tired,  and  then 
it  took  four  of  us  to  drag  him  to  the  deck.  He  was  a 
roroa,  a  kind  of  barracuda,  about  ten  feet  long,  and 
weighing  a  couple  of  hundred  pounds. 

The  fish  made  a  welcome  change  in  our  diet  and  was 
enough  for  all,  including  a  number  of  Paumotuans  who 
were  returning  to  Takaroa  for  the  opening  of  the  div- 
ing season.  Chocolat  nibbled  a  head,  but  preferred 
the  remnants  of  a  can  of  beef.  He  improved  daily 
in  his  tricks  and  in  his  agihty  in  avoiding  being  hurtled 
into  the  water  by  the  roll  or  pitch  of  the  schooner. 
He  had  an  almost  incredible  instinct  or  acquired  knowl- 
edge of  the  motion  of  the  Marara,  and  when  I  felt  sdre 
we  had  lost  him — that  he  would  fall  overboard  in  an- 
other instant — ^he  would  leap  to  the  deck  and  frolic 
about  the  wheel.  The  spokes  of  it  were  another  con- 
stant threat  to  his  health,  for  one  blow  when  they  spun 
fast  might  kill  him;  but  he  was  reserved  for  a  more 
horrid  fate. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  61 

Kaukura  rose  from  the  sea  at  dawn,  after  a  night 
of  wearing  and  tacking.  It  was  an  atoll,  irregularly 
annular  in  shape,  twenty-six  miles  long  and  ten  wide, 
wooded  in  patches,  and  with  vast  stretches  where  only 
the  dazzling  coral  shone.  It,  too,  had  been  spoiled  in 
prosperity  by  an  inimical  wind  and  tide,  and  the  cocoa- 
palms  had  been  annihilated  that  had  once  grown  upon 
all  its  many  component  islets.  The  cocoanut-tree  lives 
more  than  eighty  years,  and  does  not  fruit  until  seven 
years  old,  so  that  the  loss  of  thousands  of  these  life-giv- 
ing palms  was  a  fearful  blow.  Each  tree  bore  a  hun- 
dred nuts  annually,  and  that  crop  was  worth  to  the 
owner  for  copra  nearly  a  dollar,  besides  being  much  of 
his  food. 

Landmarks  we  gradually  discerned;  a  village,  two 
churches,  and  a  row  of  houses,  and  then  the  French 
tricolor  on  a  pole.  The  surf  broke  with  a  fierce  roaring 
on  the  reef,  and  when  McHenry  and  I  left  the  schooner, 
Moet  stayed  aboard,  as  the  wind  was  ominous.  There 
was  no  pass  into  the  lagoon  at  this  village,  and  even  the 
pit  in  the  barrier-reef  had  been  made  by  French  engi- 
neers. They  had  blown  up  the  madrepore  rock,  and 
made  a  gateway  for  small  boats. 

The  schooner  did  not  take  our  painter,  for  the  breeze 
was  too  stiff  for  the  venture,  and  so  we  had  a  half-mile 
to  row.  When  we  neared  the  reef  and  entered  the  pit, 
I  felt  that  it  was  touch-and-go,  for  we  rose  and  tot- 
tered on  the  huge  swells,  and  dived  into  their  hollows, 
with  a  prophetic  certainty  of  capsizing.  I  could  hardly 
keep  on  the  box  under  me,  and  swayed  forebodingly. 
Then  suddenly  the  steering  oar  caught  under  a  bank 
of  coral.     I  barely  heard  the  cry  of  Piri  a  Tuahine, 


62  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"E  era!  There  she  goes!"  when  the  boat  rose  on  its 
stern  with  a  twisting  motion,  as  if  a  whale  had  struck 
it  with  its  fluke,  and  turned  turtle.  I  was  slighted  into 
the  water  at  is  topmost  teeter,  falling  yards  away  from 
it,  and  in  the  air  I  seemed  to  see  the  Tahitians  leaping 
for  safety  from  its  crushing  thwarts  and  the  cargo. 

McHenry's   "What  the  bloody !"  as  we  both 

somersaulted,  was  in  my  ears  as  I  was  plunged  beneath 
the  surface. 

With  the  fear  of  encountering  the  boat,  the  dark  bulk 
of  which  I  saw  dimly  above  me,  I  swam  hard  under 
the  water  a  dozen  strokes,  and  rose  to  find  myself  be- 
neath the  reef,  which  grew  in  broken  ledges.  When 
my  head  in  stunning  contact  with  the  rock  knelled  a 
warning  to  my  brain,  I  opened  my  eyes.  There  was 
only  blackness.  I  dived  again,  a  strange  terror  chilUng 
me,  but  when  I  came  up,  I  was  still  penned  from  air 
in  abysmal  darkness. 

Now  fear  struck  me  weak.  I  realized  my  extraor- 
dinary peril,  a  peril  glimpsed  in  nightmares.  I  had 
penetrated  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  under  the  ledge,  and 
I  had  no  sense  of  direction  of  the  edge  of  the  coral. 
My  distance  from  it  was  considerable;  I  knew  by  the 
invisible  gloom.  With  a  fleeting  recollection  of  camera 
films  in  my  shirt  pocket,  came  the  choking  dread  of 
sufi^ocation,  and  death  in  this  labyrinth. 

I  supposed  I  invoked  God  and  his  Son  to  save  me. 
Probably  in  my  agony  I  promised  big  things  to  them 
and  himianity  if  I  survived.  I  kept  my  eyes  open  and 
struck  out.  After  swimming  a  few  yards  I  felt  the 
coral  shelving  inwardly.     I  realized  that  I  had  gone 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  68 

farther  from  my  only  goal  of  life.  I  felt  the  end  was 
close,  but  still  in  desperation  moved  my  limbs  vigor- 
ously. 

Then  I  felt  the  water  lashing  about  me.  Something 
seized  my  arm.  Shark  stories  leaped  from  my  mem- 
ory's cold  storage  to  my  very  soul.  My  blood  was  an 
icy  stream  from  head  to  toes.  Singular  to  relate,  I 
was  aware  of  a  profound  regret  for  my  murders  of 
many  sharks — who,  after  all,  I  reasoned  with  an  ata- 
vistic impulse  of  propitiation,  were  but  working  out  the 
wise  plan  of  the  Creator.  But  the  animal  that  grasped 
my  arm  did  not  bite.  It  held  me  firmly,  and  dragged 
me  out  from  that  murky  hell,  until  in  a  few  seconds 
the  light,  God's  eldest  and  loveliest  daughter,  appeared 
faintly,  and  then,  bright  as  Hghtning,  and  all  of  a  sud- 
den, I  was  in  the  center  of  the  sun,  my  mouth  open  at 
last,  my  chest  heaving,  my  heart  pumping  madly,  and 
my  head  bursting  with  pain.  I  was  in  the  arms  of 
Piri  a  Tuahine,  who,  as  all  the  other  Tahitians,  had 
swum  under  the  reef  in  search  of  me. 

In  the  two  or  three  minutes — or  that  half -hour — dur- 
ing which  I  had  been  breathless,  the  sailors  had  recap- 
tured the  boat  and  were  righting  it,  the  oars  still  fas- 
tened to  the  gunwales.  I  was  glad  to  be  hauled  into 
the  empty  boat,  along  with  McHenry,  who  was  sput- 
tering and  cursing. 

"Gorbli-mel"  he  said,  as  he  spat  out  salt  water,  "yo^ 
made  a  bloody  fool  o'  yerself  doin'  that!  Why  didn't 
ye  look  how  I  handled  meself  ?  But  I  lost  a  half-pound 
of  tobacco  by  that  christenin'." 

I  was  laid  down  on  the  cargoless  seats,  and  the  men 


64  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

rowed  through  the  moat,  smiling  at  me  with  a  worthy 
sense  of  superiority,  while  McHenry  dug  the  soaked 
tobacco  out  of  his  trousers  pocket. 

"Ye  can  always  trust  the  Kanaka  to  get  ye  out  o' 
the  water  if  ye  capsize,"  said  he,  artfuUy.  "We  've 
taught  him  to  think  o'  the  white  man  first.  He  damn 
well  knows  where  he  'd  get  off,  otherwise." 

A  hundred  feet  farther,  we  came  to  a  spit  of  rocks, 
which  stopped  progress.  A  swarm  of  naked  children 
were  playing  about  it.  Assisted  by  the  Tahitians  I 
was  lifted  to  my  feet,  and,  with  McHenry,  continued 
to  the  sand. 

There  I  took  stock  of  my  physical  self.  I  was  bat- 
tered and  bruised,  but  no  bones  were  broken.  My 
shins  were  scraped  and  my  entire  body  bleeding  as  if 
a  sharp  steel  comb  had  raked  me.  My  head  was  bloody, 
but  my  skull  without  a  hole  in  it,  or  even  marked  de- 
pression, except  my  usual  one  where  phrenologists  lo- 
cate the  bump  of  reverence.  I  was  sick  at  my  stomach, 
and  my  legs  bent  under  me.  I  knew  that  I  would  be 
as  well  as  ever  soon,  unless  poisoned,  but  would  bear 
the  marks  of  the  coral.  All  these  white  men  who  jour- 
neyed about  the  Paimiotus  bore  indelible  scars  of  coral 
woimd. 

My  friend,  the  poet,  Rupert  Brooke,  had  been  made 
very  ill  by  coral  poisoning.  He  wrote  from  the  Tiare 
Hotel  in  Papeete :  "I've  got  some  beastly  coral-poison- 
ing into  my  legs,  and  a  local  microbe  on  top  of  that, 
and  made  the  places  worse  by  neglecting  them,  and  sea- 
bathing all  day,  which  turns  out  to  be  the  worst  possible 
thing.  I  was  in  the  country,  at  Mataiea,  when  it  came 
on  bad,  and  tried  native  remedies,  which  took  all  the 


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ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  65 

skin  off,  and  produced  such  a  ghastly  appearance  that 
I  hurried  into  town.  I  Ve  got  over  it  now  and  feel 
spry."  His  nickname,  Pupure,  meant  leprous,  as  well 
as  fair,  and  was  a  joking  double  entendre  by  the  natives. 

I  was  later,  in  the  Marquesas,  to  see  a  man  die  of 
such  poison  received  in  the  Paumotus.  But,  in  Kau- 
kura,  I  had  to  make  the  best  of  it,  and  after  a  short 
rest  began  to  see  the  sights.  There  was  a  crowd  of 
people  about,  men  and  women,  and  still  more  children, 
all  lighter  than  the  Paumotuans  in  complexion  and 
stouter  in  body.  They  were  dressed  up.  The  men 
were  in  denim  trousers  and  shirts,  and  some  with  the 
stiff  white  atrocities  suffered  by  urbanites  in  America 
and  Europe.  The  women  wore  the  conventional  night- 
gowns that  Christian  propriety  of  the  early  nineteenth 
century  had  pulled  over  their  heads.  They  were  not 
the  spacious  holokus  of  Hawaii.  These  single  gar- 
ments fitted  the  portly  women  on  the  beach  as  the  skin 
of  a  banana  its  pulpy  body — ^and  between  me  and  the 
sun  hid  nothing  of  their  roly-poly  forms.  I  recognized 
the  ahu  vahine  of  Tahiti. 

"la  ora  na  i  te  Atua!''  the  people  greeted  me,  with 
winning  smiles.  "God  be  with  you!"  was  its  meaning, 
and  their  accent  confirmed  their  clothing.  They  were 
Tahitians.  I  spoke  to  them,  and  they  commiserated 
my  sad  appearance,  and  pointed  out  a  tall  young  white 
man  who  came  striding  down  the  beach,  his  mouth 
pursed  in  an  anxious  question  as  he  saw  me. 

"Got  any  medicine  on  that  hay  wagon?"  he  asked. 
"We  Ve  got  a  bunch  of  dysentery  here." 

I  knew  at  once  by  his  voice  issuing  through  his  nos- 
trils instead  of  his  mouth,  and  by  the  sharp  cut  of  his 


66  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

jib,  that  he  was  my  countryman,  and  from  the  Middle 
West.     He  had  the  self-satisfied  air  of  a  Kansan. 

"The  trade-room  of  the  Marara  is  full  of  medical 
discoveries,  perunas,  Jamaica  ginger,  celery  compounds, 
and  other  hot  stuff,"  I  replied,  "but  what  they  '11  cure 
I  don't  know.  We  have  divers  patent  poisons  known 
to  prohibition."    • 

"That 's  all  rotten  booze.  My  people  don't  use  the 
devilish  stuff,"  he  commented,  caustically.  He  con- 
tinued on,  wading  to  the  boat,  and,  after  a  parley,  pro- 
ceeding with  it  to  the  schooner. 

McHenry  had  half  determined  to  plant  himself,  at 
least  temporarily,  in  Kaukura,  and  left  me  to  spy  on 
the  store  of  a  Chinese,  who  had  brought  a  stock  of  goods 
from  Papeete.  I  walked  toward  an  enormous  thatched 
roof,  under  which,  on  the  coral  strand,  were  nearly 
a  thousand  persons.  The  pungent  smoke  from  a  hun- 
dred small  fires  of  cocoanut  husks  gave  an  agreeable 
tang  to  the  air;  the  lumps  of  coral  between  which  they 
were  kindled  were  red  with  the  heat,  the  odors  rose  from 
bubbling  pots.  All  the  small  equipment  of  Tahitian 
travelers  was  strewn  about.  Upon  mattresses  and  mats 
in  the  shed,  the  sides  of  which  were  built  up  several 
feet  to  prevent  the  intrusion  of  pigs  and  dogs,  lay  old 
people  and  children,  who  had  not  finished  their  slum- 
bers. Stands  for  the  sale  of  fruits,  ice,  confections, 
soda-water,  sauces,  and  other  ministrants  to  hunger  and 
habit  bespoke  the  acquired  tastes  of  the  Tahitians;  but 
most  of  the  people  were  of  Kaukura  and  other  atolls. 

Kaukura  alone  had  nearly  a  thousand  inhabitants. 
Its  lagoons  were  the  richest  in  pearl  of  all  the  group. 
Being  one  of  the  nearest  of  the  Paumotus  to  Tahiti, 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  67 

it  had  been  much  affected  by  the  proselytizing  and  com- 
mercializing spirits  of  that  island — spirits  often  at  vari- 
ance but  now  and  again  joined,  as  on  a  greater  scale 
trust  magnates  capitalize  and  direct  missions  and  reli- 
gious institutions  with  the  left  hand,  while  their  right 
takes  toll  of  life-killing  mill  and  mine. 

The  village  was  as  attractive  as  a  settlement  could  be 
in  these  benighted  islands,  the  houses  stretching  along 
one  or  two  roads,  some  in  gala  color.  A  small,  sprightly 
white  man  was  donning  shirt  and  trousers  on  the  ve- 
randa of  the  best  residence  at  the  end  of  the  street.  He 
was  about  forty  years  old,  with  a  curiously  keen  face, 
a  quick  movement,  and  an  eye  like  an  electric  light 
through  a  keyhole. 

"Hello,"  he  said,  briskly,  "by  golly,  you  're  not  an 
American,  are  you?  I  'm  getting  my  pants  on  a  little 
late.  We  were  up  all  hours  last  night,  but  I  flatter  my- 
self God  was  glad  of  it.  Kidd 's  my  name;  Johnny 
Kidd,  they  call  me  in  Lamoni.  I  'm  glad  to  meet  you, 
Mr.  ?" 

"O^Brien,  Frederick  O'Brien,  of  almost  anywhere, 
except  Lamoni,"  I  replied,  laughingly,  his  good-na- 
tured enthusiasm  being  infectious. 

He  looked  at  me,  inquiringly. 

"Not  in  my  Hne,  are  you?"  he  asked,  with  an  apprais- 
ing survey  of  me. 

My  head  bleeding  and  aching,  my  body  quivering 
with  the  biting  pain  of  its  abraded  surface,  I  still  sur- 
rendered to  the  irony  of  the  question.  I  guessed  that 
he  was  a  clergyman  from  his  possessive  attitude  to- 
ward God,  but  he  was  so  simple  and  natural  in  manner, 
with  so  little  of  a  clerical  tone  or  gesture,  that  I  would 


68  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

have  thought  him  a  street-faker  or  professional  gambler 
had  I  had  no  clue  to  his  identity.  I  remembered,  too, 
the  oft-quoted :  "In  my  Father's  house  are  many  man- 
sions." 

"I  'm  merely  a  beach-comber,"  I  assured  him.  "I 
take  a  few  notes  now  and  then." 

"Ob,  you  're  not  a  sky-pilot,"  he  went  on,  in  comic 
relief.  "You  never  can  tell.  Those  four-flushing 
Mormons  have  been  bringing  a  whole  gang  of  young 
elders  from  Utah  to  Tahiti  to  beat  us  out.  I  'm  an 
elder  myself  of  the  Reorganized  Church  of  Jesus  Christ 
of  Latter  Day  Saints.  They  usually  call  us  the  Jose- 
phites.  In  these  islands  we  are  Konito  or  Tonito. 
We  've  been  having  a  grand  annual  meeting  here.  Over 
sixty  from  Tahiti,  and  altogether  a  thousand  and 
seventy  members.  They  've  been  gathering  from  most 
of  the  Paumotus  for  weeks,  coming  with  the  wind,  but 
we  're  about  over  now." 

"But  I  thought  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter 
Day  Saints  was  the  Mormons,"  said  I,  puzzled. 

"Mormon!"  There  was  such  vigor  in  his  explosive 
catching  up  of  my  query  that  I  may  well  be  pardoned 
if  I  thought  he  placed  the  common  name  for  Sheol  after 
that  of  the  sect.  But  it  stands  to  reason  that  he  did 
not.  His  whole  training  would  stop  such  a  word  ere 
it  escaped  him. 

"Mormon!  I  should  say  not!  Those  grafters  and 
polygamists  are  not  our  kind.  They  stole  our  name. 
We  were  the  same  until  Brigham  Young  split  off  and 
led  his  crowd  to  Utah.  Our  headquarters  is  at  La- 
moni,  Iowa,  but  I.  N.  Imbel,  who 's  gone  to  the 
schooner,  my  partner,  and  I  are  the  missionaries  in  these 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  69 

islands.  We  're  properly  authorized  ministers  who 
make  this  our  regular  and  whole  business.  My  pal  and 
I  live  in  Papeete,  but  run  through  the  Paumotus  when 
there  's  anything  doing." 

The  reverend  fellow  had  no  airs  about  him. 

"Sit  down  and  take  off  your  clothes  and  dry  them, 
and  I  '11  rub  your  cuts  with  some  liniment,"  he  invited. 
"They  '11  dry  in  the  sun,  and  here  's  a  pareu  to  slip  over 
you.  I  'd  like  to  tell  you  more  about  our  work,  so  's 
you  won't  mix  us  up  with  those  Mormons.  They  're  a 
tough  bunch.  My  father  's  the  head  of  our  mission  in 
England,  and  I  'm  in  charge  of  these  islands.  Every 
year  we  have  a  business  meeting.  That 's  what  this  is ; 
not  a  revival.  We  don't  believe  in  that  emotion  game. 
We  call  it  a  'reasonable  service.'  We  take  up  a  collec- 
tion, of  course.  We  invite  the  natives  to  investigate 
our  claims.  We  have  the  custom  to  get  converts  by 
debating  with  the  Mormons,  but  after  we  had  accepted 
a  challenge  to  meet  them  in  Papeete  the  French  gov- 
ernor stopped  the  show,  because  a  French  law  forbade 
such  meetings.  They  used  to  have  riots  in  France,  it 
seems.  The  Mormons  teach  polygamy  and  other 
abominations.  They  'U  tell  you  they  don't,  but  they  do. 
You  ask  any  Mormon  native  if  he  believes  in  plural 
wives,  and  he  '11  say  yes,  that  the  elders  from  America 
teach  that  it 's  right.  Those  Mormons  ran  away  from 
here  once,  when  the  French  government  scared  them, 
and  we  got  in  and  had  most  of  the  natives  in  the  Pau- 
motus that  the  Catholics  had  n't  kept.  Then  when 
the  Mormons  saw  there  was  no  danger,  they  came  back 
here  from  Salt  Lake.  Oh,  they  're  a  bad  outfit. 
We  're  regularly  ordained  ministers,  not  farmers  off  on 


70  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

a  lark.  This  temple  here  cost  a  thousand  dollars,  with- 
out the  labor.  That  was  all  voluntary.  Wait  a 
minute!" 

He  dashed  into  a  room,  and  returned  with  a  pamphlet 
which  purported  to  be  the  findings  of  the  Court  of 
Lake  County,  Ohio,  and  he  read  from  it  a  decree  that 
the  Utah  Mormons  were  a  fragment  and  split  off  from 
the  real  simon-pure  religion  established  by  Joseph 
Smith  in  New  York.  I  wished  that  Stevenson  had 
been  there  to  hear  him,  for  I  remembered  his  page  of 
bewilderment  at  the  enigma  of  the  "Kanitu"  and  Mor- 
moni  in  the  Paumotus,  and  how  he  made  comparisons 
of  the  Holy  Willies  of  Scotland,  and  a  New  Guinea 
god  named  Kanitu.  His  uninquiring  mind  had  not 
solved  the  problem. 

"We  beat  those  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing  in  this 
court,"  said  Elder  Kidd,  animatedly.  "We  're  the 
real  church,  and  the  Brighamites  are  a  hollow  sham." 

Mr.  Kidd  engaged  my  interest,  true  or  pseudo-dis- 
ciple of  Joseph  Smith.  He  was  so  human,  so  guileful, 
and  had  such  an  engaging  smile  and  wink.  He  seemed 
to  feel  that  he  was  in  a  soul-saving  business  thoroughly 
respectable,  yet  needing  to  be  explained  and  de- 
fended to  the  Gentile.  His  competitors'  incompetency 
he  deemed  worthy  of  emphasis. 

"Not  long  ago,"  he  said,  "in  certain  of  these  Pau- 
motus there  had  been  a  good  deal  of  backsliding  from 
our  church.  Nobody  had  stirred  them  up,  and  with 
these  people  you  have  got  to  keep  their  souls  awake  all 
the  time  or  they  '11  go  to  sleep,  or,  worse,  get  into  the 
control  of  those  Mormons.  They  '11  steal  a  convert  like 
you  'd  peel  a  banana,  and  that 's  what  I  call  the  limit 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  71 

of  a  dirty  trick.  The  Mormons  thought  they  had  a 
puddin'  in  these  backsliders  to  pull  them  over  to  their 
side.  I  heard  about  it,  and  without  a  word  to  any  one 
I  took  a  run  through  the  group.  I  went  through  that 
crowd  of  backsliders  with  a  spiritual  club,  and  I  not 
only  redeemed  the  old  Josephites,  but  I  baptized 
seventy-five  others  before  you  could  run  a  launch  from 
here  to  Anaa.  It  was  like  stealin'  persimmons  from 
a  blind  farmer  whose  dog  is  chained.  I  was  talkin' 
to  the  head  Mormon  in  Papeete  shortly  afterward,  and 
he  asked  me  what  we  were  doin'.  I  counted  off  the 
seventy-five  new  ones,  and  he  had  to  acknowledge  his 
church  had  n't  made  a  count  in  a  long  time.  I  offered 
to  bet  him  anjrthing  he  was  beat  to  a  finish,  but  he  quit 
cold." 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Kidd  excused  himself  to  go  to 
the  meeting-house  and  get  his  breakfast  with  some 
of  his  deacons.  McHenry  had  returned  from  his  tour 
of  espionage.  He  was  cast  down  at  the  poor  chance 
for  business. 

"There's  nothing  doin',"  he  said.  "Twenty  years 
ago  I  was  here  with  a  schooner  o'  booze  to  a  Konito 
meetin'  like  this.  There  was  kegs  o'  rum  with  bloody 
tops  knocked  in  right  in  the  road.  An'  wimmin'! 
You  'd  a-gone  nuts  tryin'  to  choose.  This  is  what  re- 
ligi'n  does  to  business.  A  couple  o'  bleedin'  chinks 
sellin'  a  few  bottles  o'  smell  water,  an'  a  lot  o'  Tahitians 
with  fruit  an'  picnic  stuff.  A  thousand  Kanakas  in  one 
bunch  an'  not  one  drunk.  By  cripes,  the  mishes  have 
ruined  the  trade.  The  American  Government  ought 
to  interfere.  You  and  me  had  better  skin  out  to  west- 
'ard  where  there  ain't  so  many  bloody  preachers,  an' 


72  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

you  can  handle  the  Kanaka  the  way  you  want.  To- 
night this  mob  '11  be  in  that  meetin' -house  singin'  their 
heads  off,  instead  o'  buyin'  rum  and  dancin'  like  they 
used  to.  Them  two  sky-pilots  has  got  all  the  francs. 
Even  the  Chinks  has  n't  made  a  turn.  Kopcke  of  Pa- 
peete is  here  an'  ain't  made  a  sou.  He 's  goin'-a  go 
to  leeward." 

"McHenry,"  I  interrogated,  "do  you  never  consider 
the  other  fellow?  Are  n't  these  poor  people  better  off 
chanting  hymns  and  praying  than  getting  drunk  and 
dancing  the  hula,  just  to  make  you  money." 

He  regarded  me  with  contemptuous  malice. 

"I  knew  after  all  you  were  a  bloody  missionary,"  he 
said,  acridly.  "I  been  on  to  you.  You  '11  be  in  that 
straw  shed  to-night  singin'  'Come  to  Jesus.'  You  'd 
better  look  out  after  your  cuts !  You  '11  be  sore  'n  a 
boil  to-morrow  when  they  get  stiff.  Let 's  go  back  to 
the  schooner  and  get  drunk  I" 

I  was  tempted  to  return  to  the  Marara  to  ease  my 
misery,  and  only  the  promise  of  Elder  Kidd  to  assuage 
it  with  liniment,  and  an  ardent  desire  to  attend  the 
Josephite  services  that  night,  detained  me  in  the  heat 
of  the  atoll.  McHenry  persisting  in  his  decision  to 
cool  his  coppers  in  rum,  and  I  to  see  everything  of 
Kaukura,  I  joined  with  a  friendly  native  for  a  stroll. 
The  Josephite  temple  was  a  small  coral  edifice,  washed 
white  with  coral  lime.  An  old  and  uncared-for 
Catholic  church  was  near-by.  Most  of  the  residences 
were  thatched  huts,  or  shacks  made  of  pieces  of  boxes 
and  tin  and  corrugated  iron,  with  a  few  formal  wooden 
cottages,  painted  red,  white,  and  blue.     They  were  very 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  73 

poor,  these  Kaukurans,  from  our  point  of  view,  earn- 
ing barely  enough  to  sustain  them  in  strength,  and  with 
few  comforts  in  their  huts,  except  the  universal  sewing- 
machine.  Everywhere  that  was  the  first  ambition  of 
the  uncivilized  woman  roused  to  modern  vanities,  as 
of  the  poor  woman  in  all  countries. 

Walking  along  the  beach  I  narrowly  escaped  a  more 
serious  accident  than  the  disaster  of  the  reef,  for  only 
the  warning  of  my  companion  stayed  me  from  tread- 
ing upon  a  nohuj  the  deadliest  underfoot  danger  of  the 
Paumotus.  It  was  a  fish  peculiarly  hateful  to  humans, 
yet  gifted  by  nature  with  both  defensive  disguise  and 
offensive  weapons,  a  remnant  of  the  fierce  struggle  for 
survival  in  which  so  many  forms  of  life  had  disappeared 
or  altered  in  changing  environment.  The  nohu  lay  on 
the  coral  strand  where  the  tide  lapped  it,  looking  the 
twin  of  a  battered,  mossy  rock,  so  deceiving  that  one 
must  have  the  sight  of  the  aborigine  to  avoid  stepping 
upon  it,  if  in  one's  way.  Put  a  foot  on  it,  and  before 
one  could  move,  the  nohu  raised  the  bony  spines  of  its 
dorsal  fin  and  pierced  one's  flesh  as  would  a  row  of  hat- 
pins; not  only  pierced,  but  simultaneously  injected 
through  its  spines  a  virulent  poison  that  lay  at  the  base 
of  a  malevolent  gland.  The  nohu  possessed  a  protec- 
tive coloring  and  shape  more  deluding  than  any  other 
noxious  creature  I  know,  and  kept  its  mouth  shut  ex- 
cept when  it  swallowed  the  prey  for  which  it  lay  in 
wait.  Its  mouth  is  very  large,  and  a  brilliant  lemon- 
color  inside,  so  that  if  it  parts  its  lips  it  betrays  itself. 
Brother  to  the  nohu  in  evil  purpose  is  the  tataraihau. 
But  what  a  trickster  is  nature!     The  nohu  is  as  ugly 


74  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

as  a  squid,  and  the  tataraihau  beautiful  as  a  piece  of  the 
sunset,  a  brilliant  red,  with  transverse  bands  of  choco- 
late, bordered  with  ebony. 

"If  you  can  spit  on  the  nohu  before  he  sticks  his 
taetae  into  you,  it  will  not  poison  you,"  sagely  said 
my  savior,  as  he  stabbed  the  wretch  with  his  knife. 

Pliny,  as  translated  by  Holland,  said: 

All  men  carry  about  them  that  which  is  poyson  to  serpents: 
for  if  it  be  true  that  is  reported,  they  will  no  better  abide  the 
touching  with  man's  spittle  than  scalding  water  cast  upon  them : 
but  if  it  happen  to  light  within  their  chawes  or  mouth,  especially 
if  it  comes  from  a  man  that  is  fasting,  it  is  present  death. 

Pliny  in  his  day  may  have  known  of  quick-witted 
people  who,  when  assailed  by  a  snake,  had  presence  of 
mind  to  expectorate  in  his  chawes,  but  the  most  hungry, 
salivary  man  could  hardly  avail  himself  of  this  prophy- 
lactic unless  he  recognized  the  nohu  before  treading 
upon  him.  The  Paumotuans  employ  the  mape,  the 
native  chestnut,  the  atae^  ape,  and  rea  moeruru.  These 
are  all  "yarb"  remedies,  and  the  first,  the  juice  of  the 
chestnut,  squeezed  on  the  head  and  neck,  they  swear  by. 
The  French  doctors  advise  morphine  injection  or  laud- 
anum externally,  or  to  suck  the  wound  and  cup  it.  Co- 
agulating the  poison  in  situ  by  alcohol,  acids,  or  caustic 
alkali,  or  the  use  of  turpentine,  is  also  recommended. 
If  the  venom  is  not  speedily  drawn  out  or  nullified,  the 
feet  of  the  victim  turn  black  and  coma  ensues.  The 
French  called  the  nohu.  La  Mort,  The  Death. 

My  Paumotuan  friend  and  Elder  Kidd  together  gave 
me  this  information,  and  when  we  brought  the  nohu  to 
the  house  in  which  he  lived  the  clergyman  said  we  would 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  75 

eat  it.  The  native  heated  an  old  iron  pipe  and,  after 
flaying  the  skin  off  the  fish,  boiled  it.  The  flesh  was 
remarkably  sweet  and  tender. 

I  lay  on  a  mat,  and,  after  the  American  had  laved  me 
with  the  liniment,  the  Pamnotuan,  a  Konito  elder,  mas- 
saged me  for  an  hour,  during  which  grievous  process  I 
fell  asleep,  and  woke  after  dark  when  the  "reasonable 
service"  was  beginning. 

The  people  were  ranged  under  the  immense  roof  in 
orderly  ranks,  the  Tahitians  being  in  one  knot.  Both 
the  American  elders  were  upon  a  platform,  sur- 
rounded by  the  native  elders,  who  aided  in  the  conduct 
of  the  program,  which  was  in  Paumotuan.  The  Pau- 
motuan  language  is  a  dialect  closely  allied  to  the  Maori, 
which  includes  the  Tahitian,  Hawaiian,  Marquesan, 
New  Zealand,  Samoan,  and  other  island  tongues.  The 
Paumotuan  was  crossed  with  a  strange  tongue,  the 
origin  of  which  was  not  fixed,  but  which  might  be  the 
remains  of  an  Aino  or  negroid  race  found  in  the  Pau- 
motus  by  the  first  Polynesian  immigrants.  Tahitians 
easily  understood  the  Paumotuans,  though  many  words 
were  diiferent,  and  there  were  many  variations  in  pro- 
nunciation and  usage.  The  Tahitians  had  been  Uving 
closely  with  Europeans  for  a  hundred  years,  and  their 
language  had  become  a  mere  shadow  of  its  past  form. 
The  Paumotuan  had  remained  more  primitive,  for  the 
Paumotuan  was  a  savage  when  the  Tahitians  were  the 
most  cultivated  race  of  the  South  Seas;  not  with  a 
culture  of  our  kind,  but  yet  with  elaborated  ceremoni- 
als, religious  and  civil,  ranks  of  nobihty,  drama,  ora- 
tory, and  wit. 

It  being  the  conclusion  of  the  grand  annual  meeting 


76  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

of  the  Josephites,  a  summing  up  of  the  business  condi- 
tion of  the  sect  in  these  waters  was  the  principal  item. 
Elders  Kidd  and  Imbel  stressed  dependence  of  the  Al- 
mighty upon  his  apostles,  prophets,  evangelists,  and 
pastors,  and  of  these  called-of-God  men  upon  the  francs 
collected  at  such  gatherings  as  this. 

Both  the  divines  spoke  earnestly,  and  mentioned  Je- 
hovah and  Joseph  Smith  many  times,  with  Aarona, 
Timoteo,  Pauro,  and  other  figures  from  the  Scriptures. 
They  struck  the  pulpit  when  they  spoke  of  the  Mormoni, 
and  the  faces  of  the  congregation  took  on  expressions 
of  holy  disdain. 

Somewhat  like  the  modern  preacher  of  the  larger 
cities,  the  elders  strove  to  entertain  as  well  as  instruct, 
edify,  and  command  their  flock.  They  proposed  a 
charade  or  riddle,  which  they  said  was  of  very  ancient 
origin,  and  perhaps  had  been  told  in  the  time  of  the 
Master's  sojourn  among  men.  They  spoke  it  very 
slowly  and  carefully  and  repeated  it  several  times,  so 
that  it  was  thoroughly  understood  by  all: 

He  walked  on  earth. 

He  talked  on  earth,       • 

He  reproved  man  for  his  sin ; 

He  is  not  in  earth, 

He  is  not  in  heaven. 

Nor  can  he  enter  therein. 

This  mysterious  person  was  written  about  in  the  Bible, 
said  Elder  Kidd. 

Aue!  That  was  a  puzzler!  Who  could  it  be? 
Many  scratched  their  heads.  Others  shook  theirs  de- 
spairingly.   A  few  older  men,  of  the  diaconate,  prob- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  77 

ably,  smiled  knowingly.  Some  began  to  eliminate 
likely  biblical  characters  on  their  fingers.  lesu-Kirito, 
Aberahama,  loba,  Petero,  and  so  on  through  a  list  of 
the  more  prominent  notables  of  Scripture.  But  after 
five  minutes  of  guesses,  which  were  pointed  out  by  Mr. 
Kidd  not  to  comply  with  the  specifications  of  the 
charade,  the  answer  was  announced  with  impressive  unc- 
tion: 

"Asini  Balaama." 

Balaam's  ass.  Aue!  Why,  of  course.  I  had 
named  to  myself  every  persona  dramatis  of  the  Book  I 
could  recall,  but  the  talkative  steed  had  escaped  me. 
We  all  laughed.  Most  of  the  congregation  had  never 
seen  an  ass  or  even  a  horse,  and  the  word  itself  was 
pulled  into  their  language  by  the  ears.  But  they  could 
conjure  up  a  life-Uke  picture  of  the  scene  from  their 
pastor's  description,  and  there  were  many  interchanges 
between  neighbors  about  the  wisdom  of  the  beast,  and 
his  kindness  in  saving  Balaam  from  the  angry  angel 
who  would  have  killed  him. 

But  in  time  the  prose  part  of  the  service  came  to  an 
end,  and  the  singing  began.  I  moved  myself  to  the 
shadows  outside  the  pale,  and  stretching  at  full  length 
on  a  mat  on  the  sand,  gave  myself  to  the  rapture  of 
their  poetry,  and  the  waking  dreams  it  brought. 

Himene,  all  mass  singing  was  called  in  these  islands 
— the  missionary  hymn  Polynesianized.  They  had 
only  chants  when  the  whites  came;  proud  recitatives  of 
valor  in  war,  of  the  beginnings  of  creation,  of  the  wan- 
derings of  their  heroes,  challenges  to  the  foe,  and  pray- 
ers to  the  mysterious  gods  and  demons  of  their  supernal 
regions.     They  learned  awedly  the  hymns  of  Christian- 


78  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ity,  and  struggled  decades  with  the  airs.  Confused 
with  these  were  songs  of  the  white  sailors,  the  spirited 
bowline  and  windlass  chanteys  of  the  British  and  Ameri- 
can tars,  the  trivial  or  obscene  lays  of  beach-combers 
and  soldiers,  and  later  the  popular  tunes  of  nations 
and  governments.  Out  of  all  these  the  Polynesians 
had  evolved  their  himenes,  singing  as  different  from 
any  ever  heard  in  Europe  or  America  as  the  bagpipe 
from  the  violin,  but  never  to  be  forgotten  when  once 
heard  to  advantage,  for  its  barbaric  call,  its  poignancy 
of  utterance,  and  its  marvelous  harmony. 

In  the  great  shed  outside  which  I  lay  under  the  pur- 
ple sky,  the  men  and  women  were  divided,  and  the 
women  led  the  himene.  One  began  a  wail,  a 
high  note,  almost  a  shriek,  like  the  keening  of  a 
wake,  and  carrying  but  a  phrase.  Others  met  her 
voice  at  an  exact  interval,  and  formed  a  chorus, 
into  which  men  and  women  entered,  apparently  at 
will,  but  each  with  a  perfect  observance  of  time,  so  that 
the  result  was  an  overwhelming  symphony  of  vocal 
sounds  which  had  in  them  the  power  of  a  pipe-organ  to 
evoke  thought.  I  heard  the  cry  of  sea-birds,  the  crash 
of  the  waves  on  the  reef,  the  thrashing  of  the  giant 
fronds  of  the  cocoa-palms,  the  groans  of  afflicted  hu- 
mans, and  the  pseans  of  victory  of  embattled  warriors. 
The  effect  was  incredibly  individual.  Each  white 
heard  the  himene  differently,  according  to  his  own  cos- 
mos. 

There  under  the  stars  on  Kaukura,  cast  down  and  con- 
scious as  I  had  been  of  my  trivial  hurts,  and  of  a  certain 
loneliness  of  situation,  I  forgot  all  in  the  thrill  of  emo- 
tion caused  by  the  exquisite  though  unstudied  art  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  79 

these  simple  Josephites,  worshipers,  whose  voices 
pierced  my  heart  with  the  sorrows  and  aspirations  of  an 
occult  world.  The  Reverends  Kidd  and  Imbel  were 
forgotten,  and  all  but  the  mysterious  conflict  of  man 
with  his  soul.  I  fell  asleep  as  the  himene  went  on  for 
hours,  and  was  awakened  by  Kopcke,  the  trader,  who 
said  that  the  Marara  was  to  sail  at  midnight,  and  that 
he  had  been  asked  to  bring  me  aboard. 

Chocolat  barked  a  welcome  from  the  taffrail  as  we 
boarded  the  schooner,  and  with  the  offshore  wind  we  wel- 
comed I  could  hear  a  faint  human  noise  which  I  inter- 
preted as  the  benediction  of  the  Reverend  Johnny  Kidd. 


CHAPTER  V 

Captain  Moet  tells  of  Mapuhi,  the  great  Paumotuan — Kopcke  tells  about 
women— Virglnie's  jealousy — An  aflFrighting  waterspout — The  wrecked 
ship — Landing  at  Takaroa. 

"  71 /f^^^^^^^^'^"  said  Captain  Moet,  as  he 
/  wM  gave  orders  for  the  course,  "we  weel  veesit  ze 
•^  '^  king  ov  ze  Paumotu.  Monsieur  O'Breeon,  'e 
got  no  nose,  hot  'e  ees  magnifique.  'E  like  out  ov  ze 
story-book.  Ze  bigges'  tradaire,  ze  bes'  divaire,  ze  bon 
pere  ov  ze  Paumotu.  An'  'e  ees  reech,  eef  'e  don'  geeve 
'way  ev'rysing.  Nevaire  'ave  I  know  one  hombre  like 
'eem!" 

"He  's  lost  his  grip  since  he  got  old,"  McHenry  inter- 
rupted, in  his  contrary  way.  "They  say  he  's  got  a  mil- 
lion francs  out  in  bad  accounts  to  natives.  He  's  rotten 
easy,  and  spoils  trade  for  a  decent  white  man,  by  cripes!" 

'Worn  d'une  pipe!'*  cried  the  Marseillais.  "Mac, 
you  nevaire  see  anysing  nice.  'E  ees  not  easy ;  'e  ees  not 
rotten.  'E  'as  got  old,  an'  maintenant,  'e  ees  'fraid 
ov  ze  devil,  ze  diablo  malo.  Mac,  eef  you  waire  so  nice 
as  Mapuhi,  I  geeve  you  wan  hug  an'  kees.  'E  ees 
'onnes',  Mac,  vous  savez!  Mapuhi  say  somesing,  eet 
ees  true.     Zat  bad  for  you,  eh?" 

Mapuhi!  In  Tahiti,  among  the  Paumotu  traders  at 
the  Cercle  Bougainville,  his  name  was  every-day  men- 
tion. He  was  the  outstanding  figure  of  the  Paumatuan 
race.    Lying  Bill  had  narrated  a  dozen  stories  about 

80 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  81 

him  over  our  glasses,  and  Goeltz,  Hallman,  all  the 
skippers  and  supercargos,  had  spoken  of  him. 

"Mapuhi  's  som'mat  for  looks  without  'is  nose,"  said 
Captain  Pincher,  *'I  've  known  'im  thirty  years,  an' 
'e  's  the  biggest  man  in  the  group  in  all  that  time. 
'E  's  got  Mormonism  stronger  now,  an'  'e  's  bloody  well 
afraid  of  'ell,  the  'ell  those  Monnon  missionaries  tell 
about;  but  'e  's  the  best  navigator  in  these  waters." 

"He 's  past  eighty  now,  big-hearted  but  shrewd, 
and  loving  his  own  people,"  said  Woronick,  the  Pari- 
sian, and  cunningest  of  Tahiti  pearl  merchants,  except 
Levy.  "He  's  gone  on  Mormonism,  but  he  's  smart 
with  all  his  religion.  The  trouble  is  he  's  let  charity 
run  away  with  business  principles,  and  divers  and  others 
get  into  him  for  hundreds  of  thousands  of  francs.  I  'd 
take  his  word  for  anything,  and  you  know  me!  They 
did  n't  keep  me  out  of  the  United  States  because  I  'm 
a  dunmiy,  hein?" 

"He  's  a  remarkable  man,  this  Kanaka,"  joined  in 
Winnie  Brander,  master  of  a  sieve  of  a  schooner,  as  he 
drank  his  Doctor  Funk.  "When  he  was  a  boy  he  was 
a  savage.  His  father  ate  his  enemies.  For  fifty  years 
Mapuhi  has  been  sailing  schooners  in  the  Paumotus. 
He  's  the  richest  man  there,  and  the  best  skipper  in 
these  waters  that  ever  weathered  the  New  Year  gales. 
I  'm  captain  of  a  schooner  and  I  have  sailed  the  Group 
since  a  boy,  but,  matching  my  experience  against  his, — 
and  I  have  n't  had  a  tenth  of  his, — Mapuhi  knows  more 
by  instinct  of  weather,  of  reefs,  of  passes,  and  of  sea- 
manship than  I  have  learned.  He  's  known  from  Samoa 
to  Tahiti  as  a  wizard  for  saihng.  He  knows  every  one 
of  the  eighty  Paumotus  by  sight.     Wake  him  up  any- 


82  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

where  in  the  Group  in  sight  of  land,  and  he  11  take  a 
squint  and  tell  where  they  are.  God  knows  that 's 
the  hardest  bit  of  spying  there  is,  because  these  atolls 
are  mostly  all  alike  at  a  distance — just  a  few  specks 
of  green,  then  a  bunch  of  palms,  and  a  hne  of  coral. 
It 's  something  uncanny  the  way  this  fellow  can  locate 
himself.  They  say  he  can  tell  them  at  night  by  the 
smeU." 

"  'E  's  a  bloody  Rockefeller  down  'ere,"  Lying  Bill 
took  up  the  story.  "  'E  's  combed  this  'ere  'ole  ocean. 
I  remember  when  'e  lost  the  Tavaroa  'e  'ad  built  by 
Matthew  Turner  in  California,  and  four  other  schoon- 
ers, in  the  cyclone  of  1906.  Many  a  boat  'e  built  'im- 
self .  'E  was  the  devil  for  women,  with  the  pick  of  the 
group  an'  'im  owin'  'alf  the  families  in  debt.  Then  the 
Mormons  got  a  'olt  of  'im,  an'  'e  began  prayin'  an' 
preachin',  and  stuck  by  'is  proper  wife.  You  '11  see 
that  big  church,  if  you  go  to  Takaroa,  'e  built,  an'  where 
'is  ol'  woman  is  buried." 

And  now  I  was  bound  for  the  atoll  of  this  mighty 
chief  of  his  tribe,  and  was  to  see  him  face  to  face. 
From  Kaukura,  the  Marara  raced  and  lagged  by  turn. 
The  glass  fell,  and  I  spoke  to  McHenry  about  it,  point- 
ing to  the  recording  barometer. 

"There  's  trouble  comin',"  he  said,  testily.  "I  know 
that.  I  don't  need  any  barometer.  We  South  Sea 
men  have  got  enough  mercury  in  us  to  tell  the  weather 
without  any  barometer." 

The  rain  fell  at  intervals,  but  not  hard  enough  for 
a  bath  on  deck,  the  prized  weather  incident  of  these 
parts.  With  no  fresh  water  in  Niau,  Anaa,  or  Kau- 
kura, or  not  enough  for  bathing,  and  with  only  a  dole 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  83 

on  the  Marara  for  hands  and  faces,  I,  with  remem- 
brance of  Rupert  Brooke's  complaint  about  the  effect 
of  sea-water  on  coral  wounds,  was  about  half-crazy 
for  a  torrential  shower.  But  the  rain  passed,  and  the 
sunset  soothed  my  sorrow.  Never  had  I  known  such 
skies.  In  this  heaven's  prism  were  hues  not  before 
seen  by  me.  Manila,  I  had  thought,  was  of  all  the 
world  apart  for  the  beauty  and  brilliancy  of  its  sunsets. 
Such  bepainted  clouds  as  hung  over  the  hill  of  Mari- 
veles  when  I  rode  down  the  Malecon  in  the  days  of  the 
Empire!  But  Manila  was  here  surpassed  in  startling 
shape  and  blazing  color. 

A  great  bank  of  ocher  held  the  western  sky — a  per- 
fect curtain  for  a  stage  upon  which  gods  might  enact 
the  fall  of  the  angels.  It  depended  in  folds  and  fringes 
over  stripes  of  gold — a  startling,  magnificent  design 
which  appeared  too  regular  in  form  and  color  to  be  acci- 
dent of  clouds.  One  had  to  remember  the  bits  of  glass 
in  the  kaleidoscope. 

The  gold  grew  red,  the  stripes  became  a  sheet  of 
scarlet,  and  that  vermilion  and  maroon,  swiftly  chang- 
ing as  deeper  dipped  the  sun  into  the  sea,  until  the  en- 
tire sky  was  broken  into  mammoth  fleecy  white  tiles, 
the  tesselated  ceiling  of  Olympus.  The  canopy  grew 
gray,  and  night  dropped  abruptly.  A  wind  came  out 
of  the  darkness  and  caught  the  Marara  under  full  can- 
vas. It  drove  her  through  the  fast-building  waves  at 
eleven  knots.  The  hull  groaned  in  tune  with  the  shriek- 
ing cordage.  The  timbers  that  were  long  from  the 
forest,  and  had  fought  a  thousand  gales,  lamented  their 
age  in  moans  and  whines,  in  grindings  and  fierce  blows. 
The  white  water  piled  over  the  bows,  deluged  the  deck, 


84  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

and  foamed  on  the  barrier  of  the  cabin  rise.  I  stripped 
and  went  forward  to  meet  it.  I  could  have  danced  in 
it  for  joy.  Oh!  the  joy  of  sail!  Steam  and  motor 
made  swift  the  path  of  the  ship,  but  they  had  in  them 
no  consonance  with  nature.  They  were  blind  and  deaf 
to  the  wind  and  wave,  which  were  the  very  life  of  the 
schooner.  They  brought  no  sense  of  participation  in 
speed  as  did  the  white  wings  of  the  Marara,  nor  of  kin- 
ship with  the  main.  They  were  alive,  those  swelling 
and  careening  sheets  of  canvas,  that  swung  to  and  fro 
with  the  mind  of  the  breeze,  and  cried  and  laughed  in 
stress  of  labor. 

The  rain  blanketed  the  ocean,  the  vessel  heeled  over 
to  starboard  until  her  rail  was  salty,  the  jibs  pleaded 
for  rehef ,  but  man  was  implacable.  For  hours  we  held 
our  course,  driving  fast  in  the  obscure  night  toward  the 
home  of  the  wondrous  diver,  the  man  without  a  nose, 
Mapuhi,  the  uncrowned  king  of  the  Dangerous  Isles. 

But  when  the  moon  lit  the  road  to  Takaroa,  she 
lulled  the  wind.  The  eleven  knots  fell  to  seven,  and  to 
five,  and  at  midnight  we  drifted  in  a  zephyr. 

When  I  went  below  in  a  light  squall,  sure  sign  of 
near-by  land,  Kopcke,  the  handsome  trader,  and  a  na- 
tive girl  were  asleep  on  a  mat  in  the  passageway  beside 
and  partly  under  my  bunk.  I  had  to  step  over  them. 
Her  red  tunic  was  drawn  up  over  her  limbs  in  her  rest- 
less slumber,  and  a  sheet  covered  closely  her  head.  He 
lay  on  his  back,  his  eyes  facing  the  cabin  lamp,  his 
breathing  that  of  a  happy  child  after  a  day  of  hard 
play.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  had  drunk  a  half  dozen 
tots  of  rum  since  he  had  brought  me  aboard. 

Kopcke  had  failed  at  Kaukura,  and  hke  McHenry 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  85 

was  bound  for  Takaroa,  to  set  up  a  store  for  the  div- 
ing season.  He  was  a  ne'er-do-well  who  existed  with- 
out hard  work  merely  because  of  familiarity  with  the 
people  and  languages  of  the  islands.  After  a  few 
glasses  on  board  he  had  spilled  his  affairs  to  me,  and 
especially  his  amorous  adventures,  in  the  boasting  way 
of  his  kind.  "Mary  pity  women!"  A  quarter-Tahi- 
tian,  his  father  a  European,  and  his  mother  French 
Tahitian,  he  was  remarkably  good-looking,  in  the  style 
of  a  cinema  idol.  He  had  first  married  the  half-caste 
daughter  of  Lying  Bill,  one  of  the  many  children  of 
that  Bedouin  of  the  Pacific,  who,  in  more  than  three 
decades  of  roaming  the  islands,  had,  according  to  his 
brag,  scores  of  descendants.  She  had  died,  and  Kopcke 
had  left  their  child  to  charity,  and  taken  up  with  an- 
other whom  he  had  deserted  after  a  year,  leaving  her 
their  new-born  infant. 

"She  would  not  obey  me,"  Kopcke  explained  to  Vir- 
ginie  and  me.  "I  was  good  to  her,  but  she  was  ob- 
stinate, and  I  had  to  send  her  to  Takepoto.  She  had  a 
good  thing  but  could  not  appreciate  me.  I  then  took 
this  girl  here,  whose  father  is  an  old  diver  in  Takaroa, 
with  a  good  deal  of  money.  He  once  picked  up  a 
single  pearl  worth  a  big  fortune.  She  is  sixteen,  and  is 
easily  managed.  You  've  got  to  get  them  young,  mon 
amij  to  learn  your  ways.  That  Takepoto  girl  feels 
sorry  now.  Women  are  queer,  all  of  them,  mon  vieuoo, 
n'est-ce  pas?" 

Virginie  was  all  Huguenot  French  blood  though  bom 
in  Tahiti,  and  Kopcke  went  against  her  puritan  grain. 
She  thought  him  a  bad  example  for  her  Jean,  who, 
though  as  devoted  a  husband  as  seaman,  was  danger- 


86  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ously  attractive  to  the  native  girls.  Moet  could 
tutoyer  them  in  their  own  tongue,  with  a  roughish  but 
alluring  manner  toward  them  that,  though  it  crowded 
the  trade-room  of  the  Marara  with  customers  for  finery 
and  cologne  water,  tortured  Virginie.  His  endearing 
terms,  his  gentle  slaps  on  their  hips,  and  momentary 
arm  about  their  waists,  rended  Virginie  between  jeal- 
ousy and  profits. 

^'Mais"  Jean  would  exclaim,  after  an  interchange  of 
bitter  words,  in  which  cochon  had  been  applied  to  him, 
"how  zat  femme  zink  I  do  bees'ness.  Wiz  kicks  'an 
go-to-'ells?  She  count  ze  money  wiz  plaisir,  hot  Jean 
Moet,  'er  'usbin',  'e  mos'  be  like  wan  mutton.  'Sus 
Maria!     I  will  make  show  'oo  ees  boss!" 

Kopcke  was  rather  moi'e  honest  in  his  dealings  with 
women  than  the  white  men.  His  quarter-native  strain 
made  him  less  ruthless,  and  more  understanding  of 
them.  The  ordinary  European  or  American  in  the 
South  Seas  had  not  his  own  home's  standards  in 
such  affairs.  He  released  himself  with  a  prideful 
assertiveness  from  such  restraints,  and  went  to  an 
opposite  ethic  in  his  breaking  of  the  chain.  His 
usual  attitude  to  women  here  was  that  of  the  average 
man  toward  domesticated  animals — ^to  pet  and  feed 
them,  and  to  abuse  them  when  disobedient  or  at  whim. 

Of  course,  the  white  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  humanity 
in  these  islands,  who  in  their  own  countries  had  prob- 
ably starved  for  caresses,  and  who  may  never  have 
known  women  other  than  the  frowzy  boughten  ones  of 
the  cabaret  and  brothel,  were  here  giving  back  to  the 
sex  what  it  had  bestowed  on  them  in  more  formalized 
circles.     The  soft,  loving  women  of  Polynesia  paid  for 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  87 

the  sex  starvation  enforced  by  economic  conditions 
among  the  superior  whites.  A  feast  brought  the  in- 
gratitude of  the  beggar. 

All  day,  with  half  a  gale,  we  sailed  past  atolls  and 
bare  reefs,  groves  of  palms  and  rudest  rocks,  primal 
strata  and  beaches  of  softest  and  whitest  sand.  The 
schooner  went  close  to  these  islands,  so  that  it  appeared 
I  could  throw  my  hat  upon  them;  but  distances  here 
were  deceptive,  and  I  suppose  we  were  never  less  than  a 
thousand  feet  away.  Yet  we  were  near  enough  to  hear 
the  smash  of  the  surf  and  to  see  the  big  fish  leap  in  the 
lagoon,  to  drink  the  intoxicating  draft  of  oneness  with 
the  lonely  places,  and  to  feel  the  secrets  of  their  isola- 
tion. I  was  happy  that  before  I  died  I  had  again  seen 
the  Thing  I  had  worshipped  since  I  began  to  read. 

I  slipped  off  the  coat  of  years  and  was  a  boy  on  a 
pirate  schooner,  my  hand  on  Long  Tom,  the  brass  gun, 
ready  to  fire  if  the  cannibals  pushed  nearer  in  their 
canoes.  Again  I  had  trained  my  hand  and  eye  so  that 
I  brought  down  the  wild  pigeon  with  my  sling,  and  I 
outran  the  furious  turtle  on  the  beach.  I  dived  under 
the  reef  into  the  cave  where  the  freebooters  had  stored 
their  ill-gotten  treasure,  and  reveled  in  the  bags  of 
pieces  of  eight,  and  the  bars  of  virgin  gold.  I  thought 
of  Silver,  and  sang: 

"Fifteen  men  on  the  Dead  Man's  Chest — 
Yo-ho-ho,  and  a  bottle  of  rum !" 

"Mais  vous  etes gai"  said  Jean  Moet.  ''Qu*e8t  cela? 
You  not  drink  wan  bottle  when  I  no  look?" 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  gale  had  almost 
died  away.     The  sun  was  struggling  to  break  through 


88  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  lowering  sky.  McHenry  and  Kopeke  were  en- 
gaged in  their  usual  bombast  of  personal  achievement 
with  women  and  drink,  and  I,  to  shut  out  their  blague, 
was  playing  with  Chocolat.  Suddenly  Kopeke  broke  oif 
in  a  sentence  and  shouted  to  Moet,  who  was  in  the 
trade-room. 

"Capitaine!  CapitaineT  he  called  loudly  through 
the  window  of  the  cabin.  "There  is  a  flood  in  air. 
Pudhiohio!     On  deck!     On  deck!" 

His  voice  vibrated  with  alarm,  and  Moet  made  three 
jumps  and  was  at  the  wheel.  He  looked  ahead,  and 
I,  too,  saw,  directly  on  the  course  we  were  steering,  a 
convolute  stem  of  water  stretching  from  the  sea  to  the 
sky.  Well  I  knew  what  it  was.  I  whirled  McHenry 
around. 

"Look!"  I  said,  and  pointed  to  the  oncoming  spec- 
tacle. 

"A  bloody  waterspout!"  yelled  McHenry.  "By 
cripes — here  's  where  we  pay  up !" 

I  heard  the  native  passengers  and  the  sailors  for- 
ward shouting  confusedly,  and  saw  them  throwing 
themselves  flat  on  deck,  where  they  held  on  to  the 
hatch  lashings  and  other  stable  objects.  Moet,  with  a 
fierce  oath,  ordered  the  sailors  to  the  halyards. 

"Off  with  every  stitch!"  he  commanded,  as  he  threw 
the  wheel  hard  over.     "Vave!     VaveH 

"Tromber  he  warned  his  wife,  who  was  in  the  cabin 
with  Kopcke's  girl.  "Hold  on,  Virginie,  hold  on! 
Pray,  and  be  quick  about  it !" 

McHenry,  Kopeke,  and  I  sprang  to  the  main  boom, 
and  helped  to  take  down  the  canvas  and  make  it  fast. 
The  jibs  were  still  standing,  when  the  Marara  turned 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  89 

on  her  heel  like  a  hare  pursued  by  a  hound.  The  water- 
spout was  yet  miles  distant,  but  rushing  toward  us,  as 
we  made  slow  starboard  progress  from  our  previous 
wake.  The  daylight  faded;  the  air  seemed  full  of  wa- 
ter. The  sailors  were  again  prone,  and  we,  at  the  calm 
though  sharp  word  of  Moet,  pulled  over  the  companion 
cover.  I  shrank  behind  the  house,  and  McHenry 
tucked  his  head  into  the  bend  of  my  body,  while  Kop- 
cke,  on  his  knees,  held  on  to  the  traveler. 

''Sacramento^  said  Moet,  as  if  to  himself.  "Maybe 
she  no  can  meet  zat!" 

With  pounding  heart,  but  every  sense  alert,  I 
watched  the  mad  drive  of  the  sable  column.  The  Ma- 
rara  was  now  in  smooth  water, — the  glassy  circle  of  the 
Puahiohio, — and  so  near  was  the  terrifying,  twisting 
mass  of  dark  foam  and  spindrift  that  it  seemed  impos- 
sible we  could  avoid  it.  Every  inch  the  master,  Moet 
alone  stood  up.  Chocolat  was  huddled  whimpering  be- 
tween his  feet.  I  saw  the  captain  pull  up  the  straps 
that  held  the  wheel  when  in  light  airs  we  drifted  peace- 
fully, and  attach  them  so  that  the  helm  was  fixed. 
There  was  a  dreadful  roaring  a  short  way  off  and  near- 
ing  every  second.  The  spout  was  bigger  than  any  of 
the  great  trees  I  had  seen  in  the  California  forests,  and 
from  its  base  a  leaden  tower  of  hurrying  water  seemed 
to  wind  in  a  spiral  stream  to  the  clouds. 

"She  's  going  to  drop,"  said  McHenry  in  my  ear. 
"Now  hold  on,  and  we  '11  see  who  comes  out  of  the 
bloody  wash!" 

The  roar  was  that  of  a  blast-furnace,  and  so  close,  so 
fearful,  I  ceased  to  breathe.  Captain  Moet  crouched 
by  the  steadfast  wheel,  his  hand  on  the  spokes.     For- 


90  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ward,  I  saw  two  Tahitians  with  their  pahns  upon  their 
ears. 

Suddenly  the  Marara  heeled  over.  The  starboard 
rail  was  in  the  water,  and  Kopcke,  McHenry,  and  I,  a 
tangled  heap  against  the  rail,  as  we  struggled  to  keep 
our  heads  above  the  foam.  Farther  and  farther  the 
schooner  listed.  It  was  certain  to  me  that  we  must  meet 
death  under  it  in  another  instant.  Moet's  feet  were 
deep  in  the  water,  and  now  the  wheel  held  him  up.  We 
clutched  madly  at  the  stanchions  of  the  rail,  as  we 
choked  with  the  salt  flood. 

Came  the  supreme  moment.  The  waterspout  rose 
above  us  on  the  port  bow  like  a  cliff,  sohd  as  stone.  A 
million  trumpets  blew  to  me  the  call  of  Judgment  Day. 
Then  the  wall  of  water  passed  by  a  hundred  feet  to 
port.  In  another  breath  the  Marara  regained  her  poise 
and  was  on  an  even  keel.     The  peril  was  over. 

"Mais,  tonnere  de  Dieu!"  cried  Moet,  excitedly,  "zat 
was  a  cochon  ov  a  watairespouse !  Zere  air  many  in 
zese  latitude.  Some  time  I  see  seex,  seven,  playin' 
'round  at  wan  time.  I  sink  we  make  ze  sail,  and  take 
wan  drink  queeck.  Eh,  Virginie,  ici/  Donne-moi  un 
haiser,  httle  cabbage!    Deed  you  pray  'ard?" 

Over  his  petit  verre,  the  captain  said  to  me,  confiden- 
tially, "Moi,  I  was  almos'  become  a  hon  catholique 
again." 

Chocolat,  who  must  have  thought  he  had  borne  his 
part  bravely  in  the  crisis,  frisked  wildly  about  the  wheel, 
risking  his  own  brown  hide  at  every  leap,  to  testify  his 
joy  at  his  safety. 

McHenry  and  Kopcke,  with  the  heartening  rum  in 
their  stomachs,  resumed  their  palaver. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  91 

"That  spout  did  n't  come  within  fifty  feet  of  us,"  said 
McHemy.  "I  Ve  seen  one  in  which  a  bird  was  bein' 
carried  up,  whirlin'  round  and  round,  and  not  able  to 
fly  away.  It  was  comin'  toward  us  like  lightnin*  when 
I  jumped  into  the  shrouds  with  a  "big  tin  tu-b,  an' -banged 
it  like  bloody  hell.  It  scared  the  spout  away,  an'  it 
busted  far  enough  from  us  not  to  hurt  us.  Bill  an' 
Tommy  Eustace  can  swear  to  that." 

"DiahleT  Kopcke  broke  in.  ''Mapuhi  and  his  daugh- 
ter were  in  a  cutter  coming  from  Takepoto  when  they 
were  attacked  by  a  trombe.  It  did  not  strike  them  but 
the  force  of  it  overturned  their  cutter,  four  miles  from 
shore,  and  knocked  the  girl  insensible,  so  that  Mapuhi 
had  to  swim  to  shore  with  her." 

They  are  fearsome  spectacles  at  their  best,  these  phe- 
nomena of  the  sea,  comparable  only  in  awe-inspiring 
qualities  to  the  dread  composants  of  St.  Elmo's  Fire, 
those  apparitions  of  flame  which  appear  on  mastheads 
and  booms  on  tempestuous  nights,  as  if  the  spirits  of 
hell  had  come  to  welcome  the  sailor  to  Davy  Jones's 
locker.  Waterspouts  I  had  seen  many  times.  They 
were  common  in  these  waters, — ^more  frequent,  perhaps, 
than  anywhere  else, — and  to  the  native  they  were  the 
most  alarming  manifestation  of  nature.  Many  a  canoe 
had  been  sunk  by  them.  There  were  legends  of  de- 
struction by  them,  and  of  how  the  gods  and  devils  used 
them  as  weapons  to  destroy  the  war  fleets  of  the  ene- 
mies of  the  legend-telling  tribes. 

When  I  went  to  sleep  at  ten  o  'clock  that  night,  we 
were  ranging  up  and  down  between  Takepoto  and  Tak- 
aroa,  steering  no  course  but  that  of  prudence,  and  wait- 
ing for  the  dawn. 


92  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

I  came  on  deck  again  at  four.  The  moon  was  two 
thirds  down  the  steep  slope  of  the  west,  a  golden  sphere 
vaster  than  ever  jbefore.  The  sea  was  bright  and  quak- 
ing, and  shoals  of  fish  were  waking  and  parting  the 
shining  surface  of  the  water. 

Suddenly  from  out  of  the  gloom  of  the  distance  there 
loomed  as  strange  a  vision  as  ever  startled  a  wayfarer. 

A  huge  ship,  under  bare  poles,  solemn  and  lonely 
of  aspect  and  almost  out  of  the  water,  lifted  a  black 
bulk  as  if  bearing  down  upon  us.  Somber  and  omi- 
nous, void  of  light  or  life,  fancy  peopled  it  with  a  ghostly 
crew.  I  almost  expected  to  read  upon  its  quarter  the 
name  of  Vanderdecken's  specter-ship,  and  to  hear  the 
mournful  voice  of  the  Flying  Dutchman's  skipper  re- 
port that  he  had  at  last  reached  a  haven. 

The  weirdness  of  this  unexpected  sight  was  incred- 
ibly surprising.  It  electrified  me,  dismayed  me,  as 
few  phenomena  have. 

Piri  a  Tuahine,  at  the  wheel,  called  down  to  the  cap- 
tain. 

*'Paparai  te  pahi  matair  he  announced  in  the  even 
tone  of  the  Maori  sailor.  "The  ship  wrecked  in  the 
cyclone!" 

Moet  came  on  deck  in  pajamas,  surveyed  the  spec- 
tacle of  desolation,  said  ''Bon  jour!"  to  me,  gave  an 
order  to  the  sailor  to  "Keep  her  off,"  and  returned  to 
snatch  another  nap.  I  saw  through  the  stripped  masts 
of  the  wrecked  ship  the  fires  of  the  bakers  who  mix  their 
flour  with  cocoanut-milk,  and  wrap  their  loaves  in  co- 
coanut-leaves  to  bake.  They  were  comforting  as  tokens 
of  the  living,  contrasted  with  the  sorrowful  skeleton 
of  one-time  glory  in  that  isolated  cradle  of  rocks. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  93 

Kopcke  stuck  his  head  through  the  companionway  to 
observe  our  bearings,  squinted  at  the  somber  wraith 
through  his  heavy  eyes, — he  and  McHenry  had  played 
ecarte  most  of  the  night, — and  rephed  to  my  query: 

"As  you  say,  mon  gar f on,  it  is  the  County  of  Rox- 
burgh, that  Enghsh  ship.  She  lost  her  reckoning,  and 
in  a  big  hurricane  crashed  upon  the  reef.  Her  crew 
put  over  a  boat  but  it  was  smashed  at  once,  and  those 
who  reached  the  shore  were  badly  bruised  and  broken 
by  the  coral.  When  the  people  of  Takaroa — ^my  girl's 
father  was  one  of  them — rushed  to  succor  them,  they 
fought  them  off,  because  their  books  said  the  Paumo- 
tuans  were  savages  and  cannibals.  It  was  n't  till  they 
saw  Takauha,  the  gendarme,  and  he  showed  them  his 
red  stripe  on  the  sleeve  of  his  jacket,  that  they  real- 
ized they  were  not  on  a  cannibal  isle.  Takauha 
brought  Monsieur  George  Fordham,  an  Englishman, 
to  interpret  for  them,  and  they  were  taken  care  of. 
They  had  broken  arms  and  legs,  and  heads,  too.  Ma- 
puhi  bought  the  ship  from  Lloyd's  for  fifteen  hundred 
francs.  Think  of  that!  He  took  everything  off  he 
could,  but  the  hull,  masts,  and  yards  stayed  on.  He 
made  thousands  of  dollars  out  of  the  ship,  and  in  his 
store  you  will  find  the  doors  and  chests  and  the  glass. 
She  was  built  in  Scotland." 

Her  hull  and  decks  of  heavy  metal,  and  her  masts 
and  yards,  great  iron  tubes,  she  had  defied  even  that 
master  wrecker,  Mapuhi,  to  disrobe  her  of  more  than 
her  ornaments.  Carried  over  the  reef  upon  a  gigantic 
wave,  and  perched  upon  a  bed  of  coral  in  which  she  now 
fitted  as  snugly  as  in  a  dry-dock,  she  had  withstood  the 
storms  and  tides  of  years,  and  doubtless  must  stay  in 


94  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

that  solitary  spot  until  time  should  disintegrate  her 
metal  and  dissolve  its  atoms  in  the  eternal  sea. 

The  palms  on  the  atoll  paraded  in  battalions,  waving 
their  dark  heads  like  shakos,  and  the  surf  shone  in  silver 
splashes,  as  I  sat  on  the  cabin  house  and  watched  the 
dawn  unfold.  Slowly  the  moon  withdrew.  At  half- 
past  five  o'clock,  the  mother  of  life  and  her  coldly 
brilliant  satellite  were  in  concert,  and  the  ocean  was 
exquisitely  divided  by  sunbeams  and  moonbeams  match- 
ing for  favor  in  my  admiring  eyes. 

Kopcke  reappeared  with  a  cigarette.  He  had  an 
unusual  chance  to  find  me  alone,  and  was  hungry  for  in- 
formation. 

"There  is  a  passage  in  the  reef  at  Takaroa,"  he  said, 
"but  you  can  bet  the  Marara  won't  go  through  it.  It  is 
plenty  big  enough  to  let  her  in,  but  that  takes  seaman- 
ship. Now,  I  have  seen  Mapuhi  sail  his  schooner 
through  this  passage  in  half  a  gale  of  wind,  and  swing 
her  about  inside  in  the  space  most  chauffeurs  in  Tahiti 
need  to  turn  their  automobiles.  No  one  else  would  try 
it.  He  won't  go  in;  but  Mapuhi  would  have  his  crew 
stand  by,  and,  with  the  wheel  in  his  own  hands,  would 
tear  through  the  opening  as  if  he  had  all  the  seven  seas 
about  him." 

I  was  below  washing  my  hands,  when  the  roar  of 
the  breakers  came  to  my  ears  with  the  call  of  Moet 
that  a  boat  was  leaving.  I  rushed  to  the  waist  of  the 
schooner  and,  catching  hold  of  a  belayed  rope's  end, 
dropped  on  the  dancing  thwart.  Chocolat  made  a 
bound  and  landed  on  his  master's  lap.  Moet  swore, 
but  we  were  away. 

There  was  a  high  sea,  and  for  a  few  seconds  it  was 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  95 

pitch  and  toss  whether  we  could  keep  right  side  up. 
However,  we  struck  the  gait  of  the  rollers,  and,  with 
Piri  a  Tuahine  at  the  long  steering-oar,  moved  toward 
the  beach,  urged  on  by  rowers  and  breakers,  but  op- 
posed by  a  strong  outsetting  current. 

The  dexterity  of  the  steersman  saved  us  a  dozen 
times  from  capsizing.  Often  we  climbed  waves  that, 
but  for  an  expert  guidance,  would  have  crashed  over 
us.  Many  and  many  a  boat  turns  over  in  these 
"landings"  and  spills  its  life  freight  to  death  or  hurt. 
Nearing  the  passage,  a  white  and  brawling  two  hundred 
feet  between  murderous  rocks,  the  boat  had  to  be 
swung  obliquely  to^nter,  and  we  hung  upon  a  comber's 
peak  for  a  seeming  age,  the  rowers  sweating  furiously  at 
the  oars,  until  Piri  a  Tuahine  gave  a  staccato  signal. 
Oars  inboard,  we  rushed  down  the  shore  side  of  the 
breaker,  and  were  at  peace  in  a  lovely  lagoon. 

Of  the  many  miles  of  circumference  of  Takaroa,  a 
tiny  motu  was  inhabited  by  the  hundred  and  fifty 
people,  and  on  it  they  had  built  a  stone  quay  for  small 
boats.      We  made  fast  to  it  and  sprang  ashore. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Diffidence  of  Takaroans — Hiram  Mervin's  description  of  the  cyclone — 
Teamo's  wonderful  swim — Mormon  missionaries  from  America — I 
take  a  bath. 

THERE  was  no  stir  on  the  quay  of  Takaroa.  In 
these  latitudes  the  civilized  stranger  is  shocked 
by  the  indifference  to  his  arrival  of  the  half- 
naked  native.  It  enrages  a  prideful  white.  He  per- 
haps remembers  the  pages  of  Cook  and  the  other  dis- 
coverers, who  wrote  of  the  overflowing  enthusiasm  of 
the  new-found  aborigines  for  them;  but  he  forgets  the 
pages  of  history  since  national,  religious,  and  business 
rivalries  invaded  the  South  Seas.  These  Paumotuans, 
and,  indeed,  most  Polynesian  peoples,  are  kin  to  pet 
cats  who  madden  mistresses  by  pretending  not  to  hear 
calls,  and  by  finding  views  from  windows  interesting 
when  asked  to  show  their  accomplishments  or  fine  coats. 
Though  they  may  have  seen  no  outsider  for  months, 
these  Paumotuans  will  appear  as  unconcerned  at  a  white 
visitor's  coming  as  if  circuses  dropped  in  their  midst 
daily.  Yet  every  movement,  every  word  of  a  new- 
comer is  as  alluring  to  their  imaginations,  bored  by  the 
sameness  of  their  days,  as  a  clown's  antics  to  a  child. 

"It  is  a  politeness  and  pride,  not  indifference,"  had 
explained  my  friend,  that  first  gentleman  of  Tahiti, 
the  Chevalier  Tetuanui,  of  Mataiea.  "We  simple  is- 
landers have  been  so  often  rebuffed  by  uncultivated 
whites  that  we  wait  for  advances.     It  is  our  etiquette." 

96 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  97 

The  main  thoroughfare  of  the  village  stretched  up 
from  the  quay  half  a  mile,  with  one  or  two  ramifying 
byways,  along  which  straggled  the  humble  homes  of  the 
Takaroans.  There  were  not  the  usual  breakfast  fires 
before  them,  as  in  Tahiti,  where  breadfruit  and  feis  are 
to  be  cooked,  nor  did  the  appetizing  odor  of  coffee  rise, 
as  in  Tahiti,  for  Mormonism  forbade  coffee  to  its  adher- 
ents as  it  did  alcohol  and  tobacco.  Beside  the  quay 
were  dozens  of  cutters,  and  a  small  launch.  Canoes  were 
being  relegated  to  lesser  civilizations  by  the  fast  sail- 
ing cutters.  Motor  power  was  new  here ;  almost  new  in 
Tahiti.  But  a  few  years  and  it  would  be  common,  for 
while  the  islander  cared  nothing  for  time,  he  was  at- 
tracted to  labor-saving  machines. 

Captain  Moet  set  the  sailors  to  unload  the  Mararas 
boat,  and  the  chief  of  Takaroa  appeared.  The  French, 
whose  island  possessions  in  Polynesia  occupy  sea  room 
in  spots  from  eight  to  twenty-seven  degrees  below  the 
equator,  and  from  136  to  155  west  of  Greenwich,  have 
left  survive,  in  title  at  least,  the  chieftaincies,  the  form 
of  government  they  found  upon  seizure.  ''Monsieur 
le  Chef'*  they  said  of  the  native  officials  here,  as  they 
did  of  a  head  cook  in  a  restaurant.  These  chiefs, 
though  nominally  the  representatives  of  French  sover- 
eignty, were,  in  pitiable  reality,  wretchedly-paid  tax 
collectors,  policemen,  and  bailiffs.  But  they  often  were 
gentlemen — gentlemen  of  rich  coltn*.  The  strapping  fel- 
low who  had  vised  the  documents  of  the  Marara,  though 
wearing  only  denim  overalls,  lacked  nothing  in  cour- 
tesy. A  rent  disclosed  that  the  "alls"  were  over  his 
birth-suit. 

I  was  not  arrayed  very  smartly,  having  left  collar. 


98  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

cravat,  and  socks,  as  well  as  shirt  and  undershirt,  aboard. 
Pongee  coat  and  trousers,  with  flexible  shoes,  were  in 
this  tropic  an  ideal  compromise  with  culture.  Open  the 
coat,  and  the  breeze  had  access  to  one's  puris  natural- 
ibus,  and,  if  one  had  to  swim  or  wade,  little  clothing 
was  wetted.  The  chief  surveyed  me,  saw  that  I  took  no 
interest  in  the  cargo,  and  drew  his  own  conclusion. 

"la  ora  nar  he  said  gently,  and  led  me  toward  the 
village. 

It  was  seven  years  earlier  that  the  last  great  cyclone 
had  devastated  these  islands.  Takaroa  was  mute  wit- 
ness of  its  ruin.  The  houses  were  almost  all  mere  shacks 
of  corrugated  iron — walls  and  roofs  of  hideous  gray 
metal.  A  few  wooden  buildings,  including  two  stores, 
were  the  exceptions.  The  people  had  neither  courage 
nor  money  to  rebuild  comfortable  abodes.  Lumber 
must  be  brought  from  Tahiti  and  carpenters  employed. 
No  more  unsuitable  material  than  iron  for  a  house  in 
this  climate  could  be  chosen,  except  glass,  but  it  was 
comparatively  cheap,  easily  put  together,  and  a 
novelty.  It  was  as  unharmonious  a  note  among  the 
palms  as  rag-time  music  in  a  Greek  theater,  and  in 
the  next  cyclone  each  separate  sheet  would  be  a  guillo- 
tine. Nothing  more  than  a  few  feet  above  the  ground 
withstands  these  hurricanes,  which  fell  cocoanutsr  as 
fire  eats  prairie-grass. 

We  had  not  walked  a  hundred  yards  before  a  power- 
ful half-caste  stopped  me  with  a  soft  "Bon  jour!"  A 
good-looking,  clean-cut  man  of  thirty  years,  the  white 
blood  in  him  showed  most  in  his  efficient  manner  and 
his  excellent  French. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  99 

"You  are  American,"  he  said  in  that  tongue  in  the 
mildest  voice. 

"Mais  out."  I  replied. 

"I  am  Hiram  Mervin,  son  of  Captain  Mervin,  owner 
of  the  schooner  France- Austral.  My  father  is  Ameri- 
can, and  I  am  half  American,  though  I  speak  no  Eng- 
lish. You  may  have  read  of  me.  I  repaired  his  boat, 
the  Shark,  for  that  American  author.  Jack.  His 
engine  was  broken  down.  He  wanted  me  to  go  to 
Australia  as  his  mechanician,  but  my  father  said  no, 
and  when  an  American  says  no,  he  means  that,  rCest-ce 
pas.  Monsieur?" 

"Where  were  you,"  I  inquired,  "when  the  last  cy- 
clone blew?" 

His  fine  brown  face  wrinkled.  Hiram  had  a  firm 
chin,  a  handsome  black  mustache,  and  teeth  as  hard  and 
white  as  the  keys  of  a  new  piano. 

"Ah,  you  have  heard  of  how  we  escaped?  Non? 
Alors,  Monsieur,  I  will  tell  you.  I  am  a  diver,  and 
here  I  keep  a  store.  We  were  at  Hikueru,  my  father 
and  I,  when  it  began  to  storm.  Father  watched  the 
barometer,  and  the  sea.  The  mercury  lowered  fast, 
and  the  waves  rolled  bigger  every  hour. 

"  'The  barometer  is  sinking  fast.  The  ocean  will 
drown  the  island,'  said  my  father.  'Noah  built  an  ark, 
but  we  cannot  float  on  one ;  we  must  get  above  the  water.' 

"There  were  four  cocoanut-trees,  solid  and  thick- 
trunked,  that  grew  a  few  feet  from  one  another.  Bad 
planting,  out,  but  «most  useful.  He  set  me  and  some 
others,  his  close  friends,  to  climbing  these  trees  and  cut- 
ting off  their  heads,  so  that  they  stood  like  pillars  of 


100  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  temple.  It  was  a  pity,  I  thought,  for  we  ruined 
them.  Then  we  took  heavy  planks  and  lifted  them  to 
the  tops  of  these  trees  and  spiked  and  roped  them  in  a 
platform. 

"Attendez,  Monsieur!  All  this  time  the  cyclone  in- 
creased. My  father  was  not  with  us.  It  was  the  div- 
ing season  on  Hikueru,  and  people  were  gathered  from 
all  over  the  atolls,  and  from  Tahiti,  hundreds  of  Maoris, 
and  many  whites.  My  father  was  directing  the  efforts 
of  the  people  to  save  their  property.  We  had  not  yet 
thought  of  our  lives  being  in  great  danger.  We  island- 
ers could  not  live  if  we  expected  the  worst. 

"A  gale  from  the  east,  strong  but  not  dangerous,  had 
lashed  the  water  of  the  lagoon  and  made  it  like  the 
ocean,  and  then,  turning  to  the  west,  had  driven  the 
ocean  mad.  Now  the  ocean  was  coming  over  the  reef, 
the  waves  very  high  and  threatening.  We  knew  that 
if  ever  the  sea  and  the  lagoon  met  to  fight,  we  would  be 
the  victims.  Thus,  Monsieur,  the  lagoon  surrounded 
by  the  island,  and  the  usually  calm  waters  inside  the 
outer  reef,  were  .both  in  a  frightful  state,  and  we  began 
to  fear  what  had  been  in  other  atolls.  My  father  was 
wise,  but,  being  a  Mormon  and  also  an  American,  he 
must  not  think  of  himself  first.  My  father  came  to  us 
and  tested  the  platform,  and  showed  us  where  to 
strengthen  it. 

"  'The  island  will  be  covered  by  the  sea  and  the  la- 
goon,' he  said.     'Make  haste,  in  the  name  of  God  I' 

"Some  one,  a  woman,  called  to  him  for  help,  and  he 
ran  to  her.  A  sheet  of  iron  from  a  roof  came  through 
the  air,  and  wounded  him.  I  thought  his  head  was  al- 
most cut  off,  from  the  quantity  of  blood.     Mcds,  Mon- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  101 

sieur,  c'etait  terrible!  We  caught  hold  of  my  father, 
and  made  a  sling  with  our  ropes,  and  lifted  him,  un- 
conscious, to  the  platform  at  the  top  of  the  trees.  He 
raised  his  head  and  looked  around. 

"  'Go  down  again  I'  he  commanded.  'Cut  down  those 
three  trees.     If  they  fall  they  will  strike  us.' 

"Monsieur,  that  was  my  father,  the  American,  who 
spoke,  though  nearly  dead.  He  was  wise.  We  did  as 
he  said,  as  quickly  as  we  could,  and  climbed  back  to 
the  platform.  The  great  breakers  of  the  ocean  were 
now  far  up  on  our  beach  at  each  end  of  the  tide.  The 
whole  width  of  the  land  from  the  edge  of  the  beach  to 
the  lagoon  is  but  the  length  of  four  or  five  cocoanut- 
trees.  The  water  below  the  atoll  was  forced  up  through 
the  coral  sand.  Monsieur,  until  it  was  like  the  dough 
of  the  baker  when  he  first  pours  in  the  cocoanut  juice. 
People  still  on  the  ground  went  up  to  their  arms  in  it. 
We  feared  the  atoll  would  be  taken  back  to  the  depths. 
Our  platform  was  nearer  the  lagoon  than  the  moat — 
to  be  exact,  two  hundred  feet  from  the  moat,  and  a  hun- 
dred from  the  lagoon.  My  father  had  us  tie  him  to  the 
platform  and  to  the  trees.  We  had  brought  plenty  of 
ropes  for  that. 

''Mon  Dieu!  Below  the  poor  people  were  tying  them- 
selves to  the  trunks  of  the  cocoanut-trees,  and  climbing 
them,  if  they  could,  and  roosting  in  the  branches  like 
the  wild  birds  of  the  air.  They  were  shrieking  and 
praying.  There  were  many  whites,  too,  because  all  the 
pearl-shell  and  pearl  buyers,  and  the  keepers  of  stores 
like  us,  were  there  from  Papeete.  The  little  children 
who  could  not  climb  were  crying,  and  many  parents 
stayed  with  them  to  die.     The  sea  was  now  like  the  reef. 


102  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

white  as  the  noon  clouds  with  foam.  We  had  bound 
my  father's  wounds  with  my  shirt,  but  the  blood  dripped 
on  the  boards  where  he  lay  with  his  eyes  open  and  watch- 
ing the  cyclone." 

The  chief,  who  had  accompanied  me,  became  restless. 
He  understood  no  French. 

'^Monsieur  VAmericain,  do  I  detain  you?"  Hiram 
Mervin  asked  me. 

I  signed  for  him  to  continue. 

"Then  came  the  darkness.  There  were  only  the 
sounds  of  the  wind  and  water,  the  crash  of  the  cocoanut- 
trees  as  they  fell  with  their  human  fruit.  We  heard  the 
houses  being  swept  away;  we  thought  we  caught 
glimpses  of  vessels  riding  on  the  breakers,  and  we  im- 
agined we  caught  the  shrieks  of  those  being  destroyed. 
But  the  wind  itself  sounded  like  the  voices  of  people. 
I  heard  many  calling  my  name. 

"'Hiram  Mervin,  pray  for  us!  Save  us!'  said  the 
cyclone. 

"Ah,  I  cannot  tell  it !  It  was  too  dreadful.  It  was 
hours  after  darkness  that  the  sea  reached  its  height. 
Those  below  were  torn  from  hummocks  of  coral,  from 
the  roofs  of  houses,  and  from  trees.  We  knew  that  the 
sharks  and  other  devils  of  the  sea  were  seizing  them. 
The  sea  rushed  over  the  land  into  the  lagoon  and  the 
lagoon  returned  to  the  sea.  When  they  met  under  us, 
they  fought  like  the  bulls  of  Bashan.  Hikueru  was 
being  swallowed  as  the  whale  swallowed  lona,  the  pero- 
feta.  We  held  on  though  our  trees  bent  like  the  mast 
of  a  schooner  in  a  typhoon.  We  called  often  to  one 
another  to  be  sure  none  was  lost.  When  morning 
came,  after  night  on  night  of  darkness,  the  waters  re- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  103 

ceded,  and  we  saw  the  work  of  the  demon.  Almost 
every  house  had  been  cut  down,  and  most  of  the  trees. 
The  cemeteries  were  washed  up,  and  the  bodies,  bones, 
and  skulls  of  our  dead  for  decades  were  strewn  about  or 
in  the  ocean.  The  lagoon  was  so  full  of  corpses  old  and 
new  that  our  people  would  not  fish  nor  dive  for  shells 
there  for  a  long  time.  The  spirits  are  still  seen  as  they 
fly  through  the  air  when  there  is  a  gale.  But,  Mon- 
sieur, our  four  cocoanut-trees  had  stood  as  the  pillars 
of  the  temple  of  Birigi'ama  lunga.  Not  for  nothing 
was  my  father  born  in  America.  Mais,  Monsieur,  the 
chief  is  waiting.  The  mitinare  will  be  glad  to  see  you. 
Au  revoir" 

Hiram  took  a  step  to  return  to  the  quay  when  he 
called  back  to  me.  "Ah,  there  is  Teamo,  who  is  the 
Living  Ghost,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  Paumotuan  woman 
who  was  coming  up  from  the  quay  towards  where  we 
three  stood.  Teamo  had  the  balanced  gait  of  one  who 
sits  or  stands  much  in  canoes,  and  she  strode  like  a  man, 
her  powerful  figure  showing  under  her  red  Mother-Hub- 
bard  which  clung  close  to  her  stoutish  form.  Short,  she 
was  like  most  of  the  Paumotuans,  of  middle  height,  but 
with  her  head  set  upon  a  pillar  of  a  neck,  and  her  bare 
chocolate  arms,  rounded,  but  hinting  of  the  powerful 
muscles  beneath  the  skin.  Her  hair  was  piled  high  on 
her  head  like  a  crown,  and  upon  it  was  a  basket  in  which 
were  two  chickens.  A  live  pig  was  under  her  arm. 
She  was  carrying  this  stock  from  our  boat. 

"There,"  said  Hiram,  "there  is  Teamo,  who  is  the 
greatest  swimmer  of  all  these  seas,  and  who  went 
through  the  great  cyclone  as  does  a  fish.  Haere  mail" 
he  called,  "This  monsieur,  who  is  an  American,  like  my 


104  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

father,  wants  to  hear  about  your  swimming  of  the  seas 
in  the  matai  rorofai/' 

Teamo  put  down  her  pig  and  the  chickens  from  her 
head,  sat  upon  her  haunches,  and  drawing  a  diagram  in 
the  coral  sand,  she  told  her  strange  tale  in  her  own 
language. 

"The  water  is  coming  over  the  atoll,  and  the  lagoon 
and  the  sea  are  one,"  said  Teamo,  "when  my  brother 
and  sisters  and  I  climbed  the  great  cocoanut-tree  by  our 
house,  because  it  is  death  below.  You  know  the  cocoa- 
nut-trees.  You  see  they  have  no  limbs.  You  know 
that  it  is  hard  to  hold  on  because  the  great  trees  shake  in 
the  wind,  and  there  is  no  place  ta  sit.  Only  we  could 
put  our  arms  around  the  leaves  and  hold  as  best  we 
might.  When  it  comes  on  dark  we  feel  the  wind  roaring 
louder  about  us,  and  we  hear  the  cries  of  those  who  are 
in  other  trees.  Then  far  out  on  the  reef  we  hear  the 
pounding  of  the  sea  and  the  waves  begin  more  and 
more  to  come  over  the  atoll  until*  they  cover  it  deeper 
and  deeper,  and  each  succeeding  wave  climbs  higher  and 
higher  toward  where  we  cling.  We  know  that  soon 
there  will  come  a  wave  whose  teeth  will  tear  us  from 
the  tree. 

"That  wave  came  all  of  a  sudden.  It  was  like  a 
cloud  in  the  sky.  It  lifted  me  out  of  the  cocoanut- 
leaves  as  the  diver  tears  the  shell  from  the  bank  at 
the  bottom  of  the  lagoon.  It  lifted  me  and  took  me 
over  the  lagoon,  over  the  tops  of  all  trees,  and  when 
it  went  back  to  the  ocean,  it  carried  me  miles  with  it. 
I  was  on  the  top  of  its  back,  almost  in  the  sky,  and 
it  was  as  black  as  the  spittle  of  the  devil-fish." 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  105 

The  chief  was  listening  attentively,  for  she  spoke  in 
Paumotuan.     Hiram  Mervin  interposed: 

"Teamo  went  away  from  Hikueru  on  that  wave  and 
stayed  three  days,"  said  he.  "She  was  numbered  with 
the  dead  when  the  count  of  the  living  was  made  by  my 
father." 

Teamo  squatted  on  the  sand  of  the  road.  I  was 
afraid  she  would  weary  in  her  relation,  as  do  her  race. 
"Parau  vinivini!"  I  said,  and  smoothed  her  shoulders. 

"I  kept  upon  its  back,"  she  resumed.  "All  through 
that  night  I  swam  or  floated,  fighting  the  waves,  and 
fearing  the  sharks.  I  called  on  Birigi'ama  lunga  and 
on  letu  Kirito,  and  on  God.  Hours  and  hours  I  kept 
up  until  the  dawn.  Then  I  saw  a  coral-reef,  and  swam 
for  it.  I  was  nearly  crushed  time  and  time  on  the 
rocks,  but  at  last  I  crawled  up  on  the  sand  above  the 
water,  and  fell  asleep. 

"When  I  awoke  I  was  all  naked.  The  waves  had 
torn  my  dress  from  me,  and  the  sun  was  burning  my 
body.  I  was  bruised  and  wounded,  but  I  prayed  my 
thanks  to  the  God  of  the  Mormons.  I  stood  upon  my 
feet,  and  I  saw  all  about  me  the  poke  roa,  the  black- 
ening and  broken  bodies  of  people  of  Hikueru.  They, 
too,  had  floated  on  the  same  wave,  but  they  had  per- 
ished. They  were  all  about  me.  I  searched  for  cocoa- 
nuts,  for  I  was  drying  up  with  thirst  and  shaking  with 
hunger.  At  last  I  found  one  under  the  body  of  my 
cousin,  and,  breaking  it  with  a  rock,  I  drank  the  water 
in  it,  and  again  fell  asleep. 

"Now  when  I  awoke  I  was  stronger,  and  a  distance 
away  in  the  water  I  saw  a  box  floating.     I  broke  it 


106  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

open,  and  found  it  had  in  it  tins  of  salmon.  They 
were  from  some  store  in  Hikueru,  for  I  soon  knew 
there  was  no  living  human  on  that  atoll  but  me.  I 
could  not  open  the  tins  of  salmon  but  pierced  holes 
in  them  with  a  piece  of  coral  and  sucked  out  the  fish. 
God  was  even  better  to  me,  for  I  found  a  camphor- 
wood  chest  with  a  shirt  and  pareu  in  it,  and  I  put  them 
on.  I  then  found  a  canoe  thrown  up  on  the  beach, 
and  it  was  half  full  of  rain-water.  I  made  up  my 
mind  tcCreturn  to  my  home  in  the  canoe.  It  was  broken 
and  there  was  no  paddle.  I  patched  it,  I  found  the 
outrigger,  and  tied  it  on  with  cocoanut  fiber  which  I 
plaited.  I  made  a  paddle  from  the  top  of  the  salmon 
case,  and  lashed  it  to  the  handle  of  a  bpoom  I  found. 
I  kept  enough  fresh  water  in  the  canoe,  and  a,fter  two 
days  of  eating  and  resting  I  pushed  out  in  the  canoe, 
with  the  remainder  of  the  salmon.  I  could  not  see  any 
other  atoll,  but  I  trusted  to  God  and  prayed  as  I  pad- 
dled. I  pushed  over  the  reef  at  daybreak  of  the  third 
day,  and  paddled  until  the  next  morning,  when  I  saw 
Hikueru,  and  reached  the  remnants  of  my  village." 

Teamo  gathered  up  her  burdens  and,  with  a  reminis- 
cent smile,  walked  on. 

''Monsieur  VAmericain/'  said  Hiram,  "you  may  be 
sure  that  when  she  returned  to  Hikueru  from  Tekokota 
— that  atoll  was  fifteen  miles  away — they  were  afraid 
of  her,  as  the  friends  of  Lataro  when  letu  Kirito  raised 
him  from  the  dead." 

The  chief's  restlessness  increased,  as  if  he  must  de- 
liver me  somewhere  quickly;  but  I  thought  of  the  man 
they  called  the  king  of    the  Paumotus. 

"The  house  of  Mapuhi,  is  it—" 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  107 

"The  chief  is  taking  you  there  now,"  said  Hiram. 
"The  elders  are  there.  My  father  was  long-time  the 
partner  of  Mapuhi.  They  sailed  their  schooners  to- 
gether and  had  their  divers." 

"You  and  your  father  are  Mormons?" 

"Nous  sommes  bons  Mormons/*  replied  the  half-caste, 
seriously.  "Am  I  not  named  for  the  king  who  built 
the  temple  of  Solomon.  It  is  a  shame,  Monsieur,  that 
those  Konito  are  permitted  in  these  islands.  They 
corrupt  the  true  religion." 

The  chief  touched  my  arm,  and  we  proceeded,  after 
an  exchange  of  bows  with  the  son  of  the  American. 
We  walked  to  the  very  end  of  the  small  motu  or 
islet.  The  motus  are  often  long  but  always  very 
narrow,  between  three  hundred  and  fifteen  hundred 
feet. 

The  people  of  Takaroa  had  chosen  to  pitch  their  huts 
on  this  spot  of  the  whole  atoll  because  of  the  pass  into 
the  lagoon  being  there.  That  was  the  determining 
factor  just  as  the  banks  of  rivers  and  bays  were 
selected  by  American  pioneers.  Where  the  salt  water 
was  on  three  sides — the  moat,  the  lagoon,  and  the  chan- 
nel between  the  next  motu — was  the  residence  of  our 
seeking. 

It  was  a  neat  domicile  of  dressed  lumber,  raised  ten 
feet  from  the  ground  on  stilts.  It  was  fenced  about,  and 
here  and  there  a  banana-plant  or  fig-tree  grew  in  a 
hole  dug  in  the  coral,  surrounded  by  a  little  wall  of  coral 
and  with  rotting  tin  cans  heaped  about.  Driven  in  the 
trunks  were  nails.  I  asked  the  chief  the  reason,  and 
he  replied  vaguely  that  the  trees  needed  the  iron  of  the 
cans  and  the  nails. 


108  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

We  were  entering  the  grounds  now,  and  I  guessed  it 
was  Mapuhi's  house. 

"Mapuhi  is  here?"  I  inquired. 

'^''E,  he  is  at  prayer,  maybe." 

The  chief  shrank  back,  as  we  were  on  the  porch. 

"Faaea  oe;  tehaeri  net  au.     You  stay;  I  go,"  he  said. 

On  the  side  veranda,  a  girl  of  seventeen  or  so,  in  a 
black  gown,  lay  on  a  mattress  and  yawned  as  she 
scratched  her  knee  with  her  toes — not  of  the  same  leg. 
She  was  almost  naked,  slender  and  very  brown.  These 
Paumotuans  are  darkened  by  the  sun,  their  hair  is  not 
long  and  beautiful  like  the  Tahitians'.  Beauty  is  a 
matter  of  food  and  fresh  water.  She  lay  on  this  bare 
mattress,  without  sheets  or  pillows,  evidently  just 
awakening  for  the  day.  She  made  quite  a  picture 
when  she  smiled.  The  daughter  of  the  king,  doubt- 
less. 

There  was  a  noise  in  response  to  my  knock,  and  the 
door  opened.  A  tousled  pompadour  of  yellowish-red 
hair  above  hazel  eyes  peeped  out,  the  eyes  snapped  in 
amazement,  and  their  owner,  a  strapping  chap  of 
twenty-five,  put  out  his  hand. 

"Hello!     Where  are  you  from?"  he  said. 

"Off  the  Marara  just  now,  and  from  the  United 
States  not  long  ago." 

"Well,  gee  cricketty,  I  'm  glad  to  see  you!  My 
name 's  Overton,  T.  E.  Overton  of  Logan,  Utah. 
Come  here,  Martin!  He's  Martin  De  Kalb  of  Koo- 
sharem,  Utah.  We  're  Mormon  elders.  Say,  it 's  good 
to  talk  United  States!" 

A  body  leaped  out  of  bed  in  an  inner  room,  and  a  pair 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  109 

of  blue  eyes  under  brown  hair,  an  earnest  face,  sup- 
ported by  an  athletic  figure  in  pajamas,  rushed  out. 
The  owner  seized  my  hand. 

"I  '11  be  doggoned  I  I  did  n't  know  anything  was  in 
sight.  The  Marara!  Any  mail  for  me?  Come  in,  and 
we  '11  dress." 

The  king's  daughter  had  fled  when  the  missionaries 
appeared.  I  entered  the  living-room  and  found  a  chair, 
while  the  elders  flooded  me  with  questions  from  their 
sleeping  quarters,  as  they  put  on  their  clothes.  While 
I  answered,  I  looked  at  the  home  of  this  foremost  of  the 
Paumotuans,  whose  father  and  mother  had  eaten  their 
kind. 

A  dining-room  table  and  half  a  dozen  cheap  chairs 
were  all  the  furniture.  South  Sea  Islanders  found  sit- 
ting in  chairs  imcomfortable,  and  these  were  plainly 
guest  seats,  for  governors  and  pearl-buyers  and  mis- 
sionaries. 

The  walls  held  prints  curiously  antagonistic.  Brig- 
ham  Young,  founder  of  the  Utah  Mormon  colony,  with 
a  curly  white  beard,  smooth  upper  lip,  and  glorified 
countenance,  sat  in  an  arm-chair,  holding  a  walking- 
stick  of  size,  with  a  gilded  head.  A  splendiferous  col- 
ored lithograph  of  the  temple  at  Salt  Lake  flanked  the 
portrait. 

On  the  other  wall  was  a  double  pink  page  from  a  New 
York  gazette,  usually  found  in  barber-shops  and  on 
boot-black  stands,  with  pictures  of  two  prize-fighters, 
Jeffries  and  Johnson,  one  white  and  the  other  black, 
glaring  viciously  at  each  other,  and  with  threatening 
gloved  fists.     Beneath  this  picture  was  in  handwriting: 


no  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Teferite  e  Tihonitone 

na 

Taata     Moto 

Emerging  from  their  bedroom,  the  elders  caught  my 
eyes  fastened  on  the  pink  page,  and  they  looked  grieved, 
as  housewives  whose  kitchen  is  found  in  disorder. 

"They  're  crazy  about  boxing,"  said  Overton. 
"That's  young  Mapuhi  who  put  that  up  and  wrote  that. 
We  reprove  them  for  such  ungodly  interests,  but  they 
are  good  Mormons,  anyhow." 

I  led  the  conversation  to  their  own  work  in  this  group. 
They  became  enthusiastic.  Sincere  faces  they  had, 
simple  and  strong,  of  the  pioneer  type.  They  were 
sons  of  healthy  peasantry,  and  products  of  plain  living 
in  the  open.  De  Kalb  had  left  a  wife  and  child  in  Koo- 
sharem,  and  Overton  a  sweetheart  in  Logan,  to  take 
their  part  in  spreading  their  gospel  among  these  natives. 
They  were  voluntary  missionaries,  paying  their  own  ex- 
penses for  the  two  or  three  years  they  were  to  give  to 
proselytizing,  according  to  the  rule  of  their  church,  they 
said.  They  were  eager  to  return  to  their  women  and 
their  farms,  and  their  service  was  soon  to  be  at  an  end. 
Each  had  spent  a  year  or  so  in  Papeete  in  the  Mormon 
Mission  'House,  learning  the  Paumotuan  language  and 
the  routine  of  their  duties,  and  now  for  a  year  and  more 
they  had  journeyed  from  atoll  to  atoll  where  they  had 
churches,  preaching  and  making  converts,  they  said. 
They  talked  with  fervor  of  their  success. 

"The  Lord  has  been  mighty  good  to  us,"  said  De 
Kalb,  who  was  in  his  twenties.  "We  've  got  this  island 
hog-tied.  If  it  were  n't  for  the  Josephites  and  some  of 
those  Catholic  priests,  we  'd  have  every  last  one.     Those 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  111 

Josephites  are  sorest,  because  they  are  deserters  from 
Mormonism.  Why  are  they?  Why,  their  so-called 
prophet  was  Joseph.  I  forget  his  other  name.  Oh, 
no,  he  was  not  our  martjrr,  Joseph  Smith.  They  split 
off  from  the  real  church.  They  don't  amount  to  a  hill 
of  beans,  but  when  the  Mormons  left  these  islands,  be- 
cause the  French  were  hostyle,  these  Josephites  sneaked 
in  and  got  quite  a  hold  by  lying  about  us,  before  we  got 
on  to  their  game  and  came  back  here.  They  're  out 
for  the  stuff.  The  real  name  of  our  church  here  is, 
Te  Etaretia  a  Jesu  Metia  e  te  feia  mo*a  i  te  Mau  Ma- 
hana  Hopea  Nei/^ 

"Gosh,  I  'd  like  to  get  my  hair  cut  and  roached,"  said 
Elder  Overton.  "It  was  fine,  when  I  left  Papeete.  I 
just  have  to  let  it  go,"  and  he  stirred  his  golden  shock 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  abandoned  comfort  for  an 
ideal. 

"Do  the  Paumotuans  cling  to  their  heathen  customs?" 
I  asked. 

Overton  looked  at  the  floor,  but  De  Kalb,  the  older, 
spoke  up. 

"They  will  circumcise,*'  he  said  hesitatingly.  "We 
try  to  stop  it,  but  they  say  it  is  right;  that  it  makes 
them  a  separate  people.  They  often  wait  until  thirteen 
years  of  age  before  prompted  to  perform  the  rite.  The 
kids  don't  appreciate  it." 

"And  tithes?"  Your  church  members  give  a  tenth  of 
their  incomes?'* 

Again  De  Kalb  replied : 

"They  should,"  he  said.  "These  Takaroans  are  just 
beginning  to  see  the  beauty  of  that  divine  law.  It  is 
hard  to  make  them  exact.     Perhaps  they  give  a  twen- 


112  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

tieth.  It 's  cocoanuts,  you  know,  and  it 's  hard  to  keep 
account." 

"Of  course,  polygamy  is — "  I  was  about  to  say  "for- 
bidden," when  I  felt  that  I  had  broached  a  delicate  topic. 
I  was  stupid.  Here  in  a  lagoon  surrounded  by  a  nar- 
row fringe  of  coral,  to  bang  the  eternal  polyangle  of  one 
man  and  many  women!  The  elders  looked  pained.  I 
was  about  to  withdraw  the  remark  with  an  apology,  but 
Westover  made  the  most  of  his  twenty-four  years  and 
waived  aside  my  amends. 

"It  must  be  met,"  he  said.  "We  obey  the  laws  of  the 
land.  The  American  law  forbids  plural  marriages,  and 
our  church  expressly  forbids  them.  We  are  loyal 
Americans.  We  say  to  these  people  that  polygamy 
is  not  to  be  practised.  That 's  true,  no  matter  what 
the  Josephites  say." 

Elder  De  Kalb,  who  was  watching  me,  interposed : 

"I  suppose  you  're  not  a  Mormon,  but,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  is  n't  polygamy,  with  wives  and  children  to  the 
extent  of  a  man's  purse,  all  avowed  and  cherished,  bet- 
ter than  adultery?)" 

Overton  got  upon  his  feet.  "Yon  bet  it  is,"  he  de- 
clared, with  intense  feeling.  "It 's  nature's  law.  There 
are  more  women  than  men  by  milhons.  Men  are  polyg- 
amous by  instinct.  And,  by  heavens!  look  at  all  those 
old  maids  at  home  and  in  England!" 

Considering  the  sorrows  of  old  maids,  I  felt  my  stand- 
ards being  endangered,  but  was  saved  from  downright 
perversion  by  accepting  the  royal  favor  of  a  tub  of 
fresh  water  from  a  cistern  that  caught  the  rain-water 
from  the  roof.  I  was  seeking  to  immerse  myself  in  the 
inadequate  bath  when  I  saw  the  daughter  of  the  king 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  118 

gazing  at  me  interestedly,  and  I  hope  that  I  blushed. 
But  the  princess  distinctly  winked  in  the  direction  of 
my  hosts  as  I  attempted  to  sink  into  obhvion  in  the  ten- 
gallon  pail. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Breakfast  with  elders — The  great  Mapuhi  enters — He  tells  of  San  Fran- 
cisco— Of  prizefighters  and  Police  gazettes — I  reside  with  Nohea — 
Robber  crabs — The  cats  that  warred  and  caught  fish. 

TIMES  in  my  life  a  bath  had  been  a  guerdon 
after  days  of  denial  in  desert  and  at  sea,  but 
seldom  so  grateful  as  that  in  the  stony  garden 
of  Mapuhi  under  the  tropical  sun.  My  wounds  were 
healing,  but  the  new  skin  forming  in  a  score  of  places 
bound  me  like  patches  of  plaster.  Not  many  houses  in 
the  Paumotus  were  constructed  to  impound  rain,  even 
for  drinking  purposes.  The  cocoanut  furnished  the 
liquid  for  quenching  thirst,  or  the  brackish  rain-water 
retained  in  holes  dug  five  or  six  feet  in  the  coral  was 
drunk  by  the  natives.  The  Europeans  of  any  perma- 
nent residence  gathered  the  rain  in  barrels  or  cisterns, 
and  sometimes  made  ample  reservoirs,  while  in  a  few 
atolls  were  little  fresh  lakes  fed  by  rains,  the  bottoms  of 
which  were  formed  by  a  coral  limestone  impervious  to 
water.     Such  lakes  were  very  precious. 

When  I  went  up  the  steps  to  the  house,  I  found  the 
Mormon  elders  fully  dressed  and  preparing  breakfast 
for  three.  A  can  of  California  peaches,  a  small  broiled 
fish,  and  pilot  biscuits  were  all  the  meal,  but  the  grace 
was  worthy  of  a  feast.  They  bowed  their  heads,  closed 
their  eyes,  and  implored  God  to  bless  their  fare,  to  make 
it  strengthen  them  for  the  affairs  of  this  world  only  as 
they  conduced  to  His  greater  honor  and  glory.     And 

114 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  115 

they  put  in  a  word  for  me,  "Our  brother  who  has  come 
among  us  all  unannounced,  but  doubtless  for  some  good 
purpose  known  to  Him  who  directs  the  sparrow's  fall, 
and  the  sphere's  movements." 

"We  have  to  economize  dreadfully,"  said  De  Kalb, 
apologetically.  "We  are  spending  our  savings. 
Canned  goods  are  dear.  But  we  are  saving  souls  right 
along.  There  is  to  be  a  service  in  the  temple  in  half  an 
hour,  and  we  would  like  you  to  attend.  We  are  going 
to  pray  for  a  successful  rahui,  the  diving  season,  and  for 
the  safety  of  the  divers.  You  know  they  never  know 
when  they  're  going  to  come  up  dying  or  dead  from 
the  bottom  of  the  lagoon." 

As  he  spoke  there  was  framed  in  the  doorway  a  native 
whom  I  knew  instinctively  to  be  the  monarch  of  this 
cluster  of  atolls.  He  wore  only  a  dark-blue  pareu 
stamped  with  white  flowers,  but  some  men  have  an  air 
which  makes  you  know  at  first  sight  that  they  are  masters 
of  those  about  them.  So  was  this  Mapuhi,  who,  of  all 
Paumotuans  in  a  hundred  years,  had  become  distin- 
guished among  whites.  Mapuhi  was  a  giant  in  stature, 
a  man  solidly  planted  on  spreading  bare  feet  of  which 
each  toe  was  articulated  as  the  fingers  of  a  master 
pianist's  hand.  His  legs  were  rounded  columns,  the 
muscles  hidden  under  the  pad  of  flesh,  his  chest  a  great 
barrel,  and  below  it  a  mighty  belly,  the  abdomen  of  a 
Japanese  or  Chinese  god  of  plenty.  He  was  almost 
black  from  a  life  upon  and  in  the  salt  water. 

His  head  was  huge,  a  mass  of  grizzled  hair  low  upon 
his  forehead.  His  eyes,  very  large  and  luminous,  gentle 
but  piercing,  gave  an  impression  of  absolute  fearless- 
ness, of  breadth  of  mind,  and  of  devotion  to  his  idea,  be 


116  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

it  ideal  or  indulgence.  His  chin  was  round  and  power- 
ful, but  not  prognathous.  His  mouth  was  well-formed, 
big  and  sensual  under  the  short  gray  mustache,  and 
not  lacking  in  humor  or  a  trace  of  irony.  His  nose  was 
all  but  missing,  for  once  when  building  a  schooner  an 
adz  had  slipped  and  cut  it  off.  His  face  was  thus  flat- 
tened, with  a  slight  suggestion  of  a  fragment  of  a  Greek 
gladiator's  head;  but  it  was  not  so  disfigured  as  one 
might  think,  and  preserved  a  mien  of  dignity  and  re- 
serve force,  of  moral  grandeur  and  superiority  which 
one  might  call  kingly  were  kings  as  of  old.  But  it 
was  in  his  eyes  I  read  the  reasons  for  his  rise  from  the 
ruck  of  his  race  to  lordship  over  it,  and  to  the  admiration 
of  the  white  traders  and  mariners  whom  he  bested  in  all 
their  own  ways — navigation,  ship-building,  and  even 
trade. 

When  Mapuhi  saw  me,  he  looked  inquiringly  at  the 
elders,  and  then  smiled.  I  saw  two  rows  of  teeth,  large 
as  my  thumb  nail,  and  as  brilliant  as  the  pearl-shell  from 
which  he  had  wrung  his  vast  fortune.  He  stood  up- 
right, straight  as  a  mast,  solid  as  a  tree,  and  commanding 
in  every  sense.  More  than  seventy  years  of  wrestling 
with  the  devils  of  the  sea  and  lagoon,  and  the  outcasts 
of  Europe  and  America,  had  failed  to  bow  him  an  inch  or 
to  take  from  him  apparently  a  single  attribute  of  his 
vigorous  manhood  except  that  across  his  broad  face  ran 
a  score  of  wrinkles,  which  criss-crossed  his  forehead  into 
diamond  panes,  and  made  one  know  he  had  learned  the 
secrets  of  man  and  wind  and  water  by  fearful  experi- 
ence. 

Thus  was  Mapuhi  who  had  made  the  winds  and  cur- 
rents his  sport,  who  in  the  dark  of  night  ran  the  foaming 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  117 

passes  that  the  white  mariner  shunned  even  in  daylight, 
and  who  had  made  the  trees  and  lagoons  of  his  isles  pay 
him  princely  toll.  This  was  the  man  who  alone  had  out- 
witted the  white  trader  who  came  to  take  much  and  give 
little. 

"Good  morning,"  said  Mapuhi,  in  EngUsh,  of  which 
he  knew  only  a  few  words.  He  gave  me  a  probing 
glance,  and  retired,  to  appear  in  a  few  minutes  in  black 
calico  trousers,  a  pink  undershirt,  and  a  belt  of  red  silk. 
His  eyes  asked  me  if  I  was  a  trader  come  to  compete 
with  him.  He  sat  down  in  a  great  chair  that  vaguely 
resembled  a  throne,  wrought  of  bamboo,  and  carved,  and 
trussed  to  bear  the  exceeding  weight  of  the  man,  for 
Mapuhi  was  over  three  hundred  pounds.  As  he  sat 
he  inquired  of  the  elders  the  reason  for  my  being  there. 
He  did  it  with  his  foot.  He  twisted  his  toes  into  the 
most  expressive  interrogation,  which  was  a  plain  ques- 
tion to  the  elders.  They  said  in  Paumotuan  that  I  was 
an  American,  an  important  man,  but  precisely  what 
were  my  affairs  they  did  not  know.  I  was  interested 
in  Mormonism,  in  Takaroa,  and  in  the  career  of  Ma- 
puhi. Assured  that  I  was  not  another  Tahiti  trader, 
Mapuhi  put  out  his  great  hands  and  took  into  them  one 
of  mine,  and  pressed  it,  as  he  said  in  Paumotuan,  "My 
island  is  yours." 

I  was  loath  to  talk  my  poor  Paumotuan,  because  I 
wanted  to  get  as  closely  as  possible  to  the  mind  of  this 
noblest  of  his  tribe ;  and  so  I  conversed  in  French,  except 
when  I  appealed  to  the  elders  for  more  exact  meanings 
in  Paumotuan. 

"Mapuhi,"  I  began,  "even  in  San  Francisco  sailors 
know  your  skill  in  these  dangerous  waters." 


118  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"Ah,  San  Francisco!"  said  Mapuhi,  regretfully.  "I 
was  there.  I  had  a  ship  built  there,  and  I  sailed  it  to 
Takaroa.  I  lived  there  a  week  in  your  great  house  into 
which  one  drives  with  horses." 

I  conjured  a  picture  of  Mapuhi  coming  in  a  hack  from 
the  dock  in  San  Francisco  to  the  Palace  Hotel,  and  of 
the  striking  contrast  between  this  mighty  man  of  these 
isles  and  the  little  men  of  finance  and  of  commerce  who 
must  have  dined  about  him.  Kalakaua,  king  of  the 
Hawaiian  Islands,  had  hved  there,  and  had  died  there. 
But  charming  as  was  that  prince  of  bons  vivants,  he  was 
nevertheless  the  victim  of  the  white  man's  vices,  and  as 
years  passed,  his  appearance  became  that  of  an  overfed, 
over-ginned  head  porter.  Even  the  patrons  of  the 
Palace  must  have  had  some  vision  of  this  man  Mapuhi 
on  the  deck  of  his  schooner,  his  vast  chest  and  arms  bare, 
his  hair  blown  by  the  wind.  Or,  emerging  from  the 
waters  of  the  lagoon,  arising  from  the  plunge  to  the 
coral  cave  where  the  lethal  shark  looks  for  prey.  This 
was  what  he  spoke  in  face  and  form  to  me. 

"I  had  seven  nights,"  said  Mapuhi,  "in  your  great 
house,  and  seven  days  in  your  streets.  The  people  were 
like  the  fish  in  the  lagoon  of  Pukapuka,  where  no  man 
seeks  them,  and  where  they  crowd  each  other  until  they 
kill.  I  went  in  a  room  from  the  ground  to  where  I  slept, 
a  room  that  moved  on  a  cord ;  and  I  rode  in  other  rooms 
that  moved  about  the  roads  on  iron  bands  in  which  people 
sat  who  never  said  a  word  to  one  another,  and  who  never 
spoke  to  me.  As  I  walked  in  the  roads  they  were  dark 
as  in  the  cocoanut-groves,  for  your  houses  make  caves 
of  the  roads,  as  under  the  barrier-reef." 

"But,  Mapuhi,"  I  said,  "we  are  happy  in  our  way." 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  119 

"You  do  not  laugh  much,"  returned  the  chief.  "Only 
I  heard  the  laughter  from  the  houses  in  which  you  sold 
rum.  I  am  a  good  Mormon.  I  do  not  now  drink  your 
mad  waters,  but  in  your  city  only  the  mad  waters  made 
men  happy.  I  was  a  gentile  myself  many  years  and  did 
not  know  the  truth.     I,  too,  drank  the  mad  waters." 

Mapuhi's  eyes  sought  the  picture  of  Brigham  Young 
which  was  on  the  wall,  but  mine  went  to  the  figures 
of  the  prize-fighters,  Jeffries  and  Johnson.  Ma- 
puhi  intercepted  my  glance  and  immediately  became 
alert. 

"Was  it  possible  that  I  had  ever  seen  Teferite  or  Ti- 
honitonef* 

This  question  was  put  to  Elder  Overton,  who  hesi- 
tated to  interpret.  The  subject  was  a  scandal  through- 
out the  Paumotus.  I  read  that  in  the  preacher's  face, 
but,  comprehending  the  import  of  the  words,  I  said  that 
I  knew  Teferite;  that  he  lived  very  near  me,  and  that 
I  saw  him  often  in  his  store.  Once  or  twice  I  had 
bought  goods  of  him.  He  was  getting  very  fat  since 
Tihonitone  had  whipped  him,  and  most  of  his  time  he 
hunted  fish  and  wild  animals.  Tihonitone,  the  neega, 
as  the  Paumotuans  call  Afro-Americans,  I  had  seen 
more  than  once,  I  said. 

"That  neega  knocked  down  the  white  Teferite  and 
took  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  francs  given  the 
winner,"  said  Mapuhi,  with  spirit.  "They  are  both 
great  men,  but  the  neega  is  the  greatest.  Next  to  the 
chiefs  of  the  Mormon  church,  they  are  the  greatest 
Americans." 

"Have  you  never  heard  of  Roosevelt,  Teddy  Roose- 
velt?" I  demanded. 


120  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

He  did  not  know  the  man.  An  acquaintance  in  Ta- 
hiti sent  him  now  and  then  the  pink  paper  which  con- 
tained the  pictures  of  fighting  men,  of  fighting  dogs, 
and  of  women  whose  bosoms  and  legs  were  bare. 
America  must  now  be  full  of  these  fights,  and  of  beauti- 
ful women  almost  naked,  he  said. 

"Your  two  most  famous  men,  Teferite  and  Tihoni- 
tone,  sell  rum.  The  goods  you  bought  of  Teferite  was 
rum,  for  he  keeps  a  rum  store  in  Los  Angelese,  and  the 
neega  in  Keekago." 

Each  sentence  tore  the  elders'  hearts,  but  Mapuhi 
salved  their  wounds. 

"These  men  are  gentiles,  I  know,"  he  concluded. 
"The  elders  have  informed  me.  Mormons  sell  no  rum. 
But  tell  me,  is  Tihonitone  master  of  his  white  wife  ?  I 
have  her  picture.     She  is  beautiful." 

Overton  frowned. 

"Mapuhi,"  he  said,  gently,  "you  make  too  much  of 
those  'Pohce  Gazette'  pictures.  The  godly  in  America 
never  see  them.  They  are  for  the  rum-drinkers,  and 
are  found  only  in  the  resorts  of  the  wicked.  Strength 
is  admirable,  but  the  fighting  men  of  our  country  are 
the  Philistines  whom  Jehovah  chastised." 

To  me,  in  English,  the  Utahan  said:  "That  coon's 
Hcking  the  white  man  has  cost  the  whole  white  race  dear. 
A  preacher  in  India  told  me  England  could  better  have 
afforded  to  give  Johnson  five  million  dollars,  for  what 
it  has  cost  in  troops.  The  same  in  Africa.  The  evil 
of  prize-fighting  was  never  better  exemplified.  Jef- 
fries' beating  has  hurt  religion  seriously." 

Mapuhi  and  the  elders  left  the  room,  and  returned  in 
a  few  minutes  in  black  broadcloth  coats  and  high  white 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  121 

collars,  in  which  they  sweated  woefully.  We  all  walked 
to  the  temple.  It  was  close  beside  the  beach,  built  of 
coral  blocks,  smeared  with  cement,  white  as  the  ocean 
foam.  Its  iron  roof,  painted  crimson,  was  the  only  spot 
of  color  on  the  motu,  except  the  nodding  palms. 

"It  is  like  the  blood  of  the  martyrs,"  exclaimed  Over- 
ton, piously.  "The  temple  was  begun  over  twenty  years 
ago.  Nine  years  it  took  to  build  it,  because  the  con- 
verts were  few  and  poor,  and  labor  scarce.  Twice 
cyclones  leveled  it.  Ten  years  ago  the  Takaroans  began 
it  again,  and  for  two  years  it  has  been  completed.  I 
know  of  no  more  sublime  monument  to  the  true  religion 
than  this  little  temple.  Every  block  of  coral  is  a  re- 
deemed soul.  If  only  the  gentiles  in  America  knew  the 
work  we  were  doing  I" 

We  entered  the  temple  reverently,  the  congregation, 
already  seated,  nearly  filling  it.  On  its  rude  coral  floor 
were  rough  benches  accommodating  five  or  six  per- 
sons each.  A  pulpit  of  gingerbread  scrollwork,  the 
only  other  furniture,  was  apologized  for  by  De  Kalb. 

"It  was  the  plainest  we  could  get.  It  was  made  for 
the  Catholics.     They  like  'em  fancy,  like  their  religion." 

Elder  Overton  preached  the  sermon.  De  Kalb  read 
from  the  Bible  and  the  "Book  of  Mormon."  The 
people  who  filled  the  edifice  paid  all  attention.  Serious 
always  in  their  demeanor,  except  when  affected  by  al- 
cohol, they  were  positively  melancholy  in  rehgion.  All 
who  could  afford  it  wore  black,  and  the  oldsters  had 
long  frock  coats  of  funereal  hue,  and  collars  like  the 
Americans. 

After  the  services,  I  broached  to  the  elders  my  ne- 
cessity of  a  habitation.     With  the  diving  season  opening 


122  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN       ' 

in  a  few  weeks,  divers  and  traders  would  be  at  Takaroa 
from  all  about,  and  the  140  people  of  the  atoll  would 
be  multiplied  three  or  four  times.  Most  of  these  divers 
would  crowd  in  the  houses  of  the  natives,  and  the  ma- 
jority of  the  traders  would  live  on  their  schooners.  Ma- 
puhi  regretted  that  all  his  accommodations  were  be- 
spoken. 

The  elders  took  me  to  the  house  of  Nohea,  a  small, 
neat  cottage,  at  the  end  of  the  avenue  leading  from  the 
mole,  an  avenue  all  shining  white  with  coral  sand.  It 
reminded  me  of  the  shell  roads  of  my  native  State, 
Maryland,  in  my  childhood.  It  was  lined  with  the 
shanties  and  huts  of  the  inhabitants. 

Nohea  greeted  me  quietly.  He  was  a  dark  man,  six 
feet  four  inches  in  height,  big  all  over,  his  muscles  well 
insulated  by  deep  fat,  and  with  the  placid  giantism  of 
a  Yeddo  wrestler.  He  was  taciturn,  reserved,  and 
melancholy.  Most  of  these  natives  became  spiritually 
strained  when,  as  commonly,  late  in  life,  they  gave  up 
the  wicked  pleasures  of  the  flesh — alcohol,  tobacco,  and 
philandering.  They  lost  toleration  for  unrighteousness, 
and  the  joy  that  in  their  unregenerate  state  had  oozed 
from  their  wicked  pores  turned  to  acid. 

A  friend  and  sometime  partner  of  Mapuhi,  and  as 
devout  a  Mormon,  Nohea  was,  next  to  Mapuhi,  the  fore- 
most figure  in  the  archipelago.  He  was  not  a  trader, 
except  that  he  sold  his  pearls,  shell,  and  copra  for  money 
and  merchandise ;  but  he  had  dignity,  strength,  and  per- 
sonality— not  quite  as  had  Mapuhi,  but  more  than  any 
other  Takaroan.  Among  Paumotuans  few  men 
showed  distinctive  character.  Nohea  possessed  that, 
and  also  physical  strength  and  skill  for  the  diving,  for 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  128 

the  handling  of  boats,  and  for  the  making  of  copra. 
When  there  was  no  white  missionary  at  Takaroa,  he 
was  the  hierophant  of  the  Mormon  church.  He  con- 
ducted the  services  and  advised  the  faithful,  collected 
the  tithes,  and  admonished  the  sinners.  He  did  not  fail 
in  zeal  for  that  task.  Nohea  painted  a  hell  darker  than 
a  shark's  jaws,  a  pit  of  horror,  lit  by  black  flames  which 
burned  the  non-Mormons,  and  a  heaven  on  earth  where 
baked  pig  was  a  free  dish  at  all  hours.  The  Mormon 
heaven  is  nearer  the  Mussulman's  than  the  Christian's. 
Food  and  rills  of  fresh  water,  many  beautiful  and  pas- 
sionate wives,  song  and  feasting,  were  promised  the 
Paumotuan.  Golden  harps  and  streets  of  pearl  would 
hardly  have  brought  their  tithes  to  the  church  treasury. 

The  very  day  I  joined  him  I  began  to  see  things 
through  his  eyes.  I  was  bathing  at  dusk  in  the  clear 
waters  of  the  lagoon  near  our  home.  The  severe  heat 
of  the  equatorial  day  had  passed,  and  the  still  salt  lake 
was  as  refreshing  to  my  sun-stricken  and  coral-scratched 
body  as  the  spring  of  the  oasis  to  the  parched  traveler. 
The  night  was  riding  fast  after  the  sunken  sun,  and 
driving  the  last  gleam  of  color  from  the  sky. 

As  I  floated  at  ease  upon  the  quiet  surface  of  the 
pale-green  lagoon,  the  sounds  of  the  murmurous  twi- 
light— the  rustling  of  the  trees  and  the  splash  of  the 
surf  on  the  outer  shore — were  made  discordant  by  a  pe- 
culiar scraping  noise  near-by.  I  turned  lazily  over  on 
my  face  and  raised  my  head  from  the  water. 

On  the  coral  in  the  deceptive  half-light  of  the  crepus- 
cule  was  a  hideous,  shell-backed  monster,  which  had 
emerged  from  an  unseen  lair,  and  moved  slowly  and 
lumberingly  toward  the  cocoanut-trees.     Its  motions 


124  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

and  appearance,  in  the  semi-obscurity,  took  on  the  qual- 
ity of  a  dream-beast,  affrighting  in  its  amazing  novelty. 
It  was  like  a  great  paper-machq  animal  in  a  pantomine. 

I  was  beset  by  apprehension  that  it  might  advance  to 
the  lagoon  and  approach  me  in  an  element  in  which  it 
would  be  my  master.  I  swam  swiftly  to  shore  and 
caUed,"Nohea!" 

My  companion  came  from  near  our  hut,  where  on  the 
red-hot  coral  stones,  which  had  been  made  to  glow  by  a 
fire  of  cocoanut-husks,  he  cooked  the  fish  he  had  caught 
that  afternoon. 

He  looked  at  me  inquiringly,  and  I  pointed  to  the 
alarming  creature  now  disappearing  in  the  palm-grove. 

"Auer  he  cried  irascibly,  and  sprang  after  the  night- 
mare. When  I  overtook  him,  he  was  standing  at  the 
foot  of  a  lofty  cocoanut-tree  and  shaking  his  fist  at  the 
object  of  his  pursuit,  which  was  climbing  with  unbeliev- 
able speed  up  the  slippery  gray  trunk. 

"I  teienei!  It  is  the  kaveu,  that  devil  of  the  night 
who  robs  us  of  our  cocoanuts  while  we  sleep.  But  wait ! 
I  made  a  vow  to  destroy  the  next  one  I  found  thieving!" 

Nohea  went  a  hundred  yards  to  where  a  banana 
plant  was  growing  in  earth  brought  from  Tahiti.  He 
gathered  clay  and  leaves,  and  with  painstaking  effort 
fashioned  a  wreath  of  the  mixture  six  inches  wide  and 
several  feet  in  length.  I  stood  in  wonderment,  guessing 
that  he  was  making  a  charm  to  bring  about  the  death 
of  the  despoiler  of  the  groves. 

Nohea  took  a  length  of  coir,  the  rope  the  Paumotuans 
make  of  cocoanut-fiber, — from  the  tree  which  feeds  them, 
clothes  them,  and  houses  them, — and,  tying  it  into  a 
girdle  but  little  larger  than  the  girth  of  the  palm,  put 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  125 

it  about  his  wrists.  The  cocoanut-tree  had,  at  regular 
intervals  upon  its  trunk,  projecting  bands  of  its  tough 
bark,  and  about  the  first  of  these  above  his  head  Nohea 
slipped  the  rope.  He  pulled  himself  up  by  it,  and, 
clasping  the  tree  with  his  legs,  seized  a  higher  holding- 
place.  Thus  he  proceeded  with  ease  until  he  had 
reached  a  point  half-way  of  the  lofty  column.  There 
he  halted,  and,  taking  from  his  shoulders  his  matted 
band,  he  plastered  it  firmly  around  the  trunk. 

He  then  shpped  to  the  ground.  I  was  as  puzzled 
as  a  boy  who  was  told  at  sailing  that  the  ship  was 
weighing  its  anchor,  and  saw  no  scale. 

"That  will  do  for  him,"  said  Nohea,  "as  the  reef 
shatters  the  canoe  when  the  steersman  fails  to  find  the 
pass." 

He  returned  to  the  fire,  and  soon  we  were  absorbed  in 
the  pleasant  processes  of  supper.  We  lived  simply,  be- 
coming near-to-nature  folk,  but  we  had  plenty.  First, 
we  ate  popo,  tiny  fish  we  had  snared  in  our  traps,  and 
which  we  swallowed  raw,  after  a  soaking  in  the  juice  of 
limes.  With  our  bonito  steak  we  had  broiled  cocoanut- 
meat,  and  for  drink  we  opened  the  wondrous  chalices 
of  the  green  nuts  and  enjoyed  the  cool  wine.  There 
was  no  breadfruit,  for  these  islands  of  stone  afforded 
no  nourishment  to  such  delicate  and  rich  plants.  But 
we  had  ship's  biscuit  from  the  schooner,  and  for  desert 
a  pot  of  loganberry  jam.  Nohea,  his  stomach  full,  sat 
contemplatively  on  his  haunches.  Now  and  then  he 
cocked  his  ear  toward  the  cocoanut-grove,  but  he  said 
nothing.  The  crown  of  the  tree  in  which  the  giant 
crustacean  had  vanished  was  lost  in  the  gloom  of  night. 
A  slight  breeze  sprang  up  from  the  distance  toward  the 


126  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Land  of  the  War  Fleet,  and  pandanus  and  miki-miki 
bushes  nodded  and  gave  forth  little  noises  as  their  leaves 
and  branches  rubbed  together. 

Over  all  was  the  atmosphere  of  mystic  aloofness  which 
the  white  feels  so  keenly  in  these  far-away  dots — the 
utter  difference  of  scene  and  incident  from  the  accus- 
tomed one  of  the  home  land.  I  mused  about  my  own 
future  in  these  little  known  tropics — 

Nohea  cautiously  raised  himself  to  his  feet,  and,  mo- 
tioning me  to  be  silent,  directed  my  attention  to  the 
tree  up  which  had  gone  the  ugly  marauder  an  hour  be- 
fore. We  heard  plainly  a  grating,  incisive  noise,  and  in 
a  moment  a  huge  cocoanut  fell  from  among  the  swaying 
leaves  to  the  earth. 

A  smothered  exclamation  of  fury  broke  from  the 
Paumotuan,  but  he  made  no  step  and  continued  point- 
ing at  the  palm.  Then  I  heard  a  scratching,  and  peering 
through  the  darkness  with  the  aid  of  my  electric  torch, 
I  saw  the  colossal  crab  coming  down  the  trunk.  He 
held  on  to  the  slippery  bark  by  the  sharp  points  of  his 
walking  legs,  and  backwardly  descended  with  extreme 
care. 

Nohea  watched  intently  as  the  animal  neared  the 
girdle  of  clay  and  leaves.  I  noted  his  excitement,  but 
still  could  not  resolve  his  plan.  It  flashed  upon  me  as 
its  success  was  established  in  an  instant  of  action. 

The  robber-crab,  touching  the  clay,  moved  less  care- 
fully, and  suddenly,  to  my  astonishment,  let  go  his 
hold,  and  with  claws  wildly  beating  the  air,  whirled 
downward  from  the  height  of  forty  feet,  crashing  on 
the  rocks  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  In  a  second  Nohea 
was  upon  him  with  a  club  of  purau  wood.     But  there 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  127 

was  no  need  for  further  punishment.  The  drop  had 
caused  instant  death.  The  immense  shell  was  smashed 
and  the  monster  lay  inert  upon  the  coral  stones. 

The  diver  sprang  in  the  air  and  clapped  his  hands 
rapidly,  as  might  a  winning  bettor  at  a  prize-fight. 

"The  fool!"  he  said.  "He  has  no  koekoe — no  bowels 
of  wisdom.  He  thought  the  clay  was  the  bottom,  and 
that  he  was  already  with  the  nut  he  had  robbed  me  of, 
and  which  he  could  open  and  eat.  Many  I  have  killed 
like  that  one,  but  it  takes  time.  I  have  had  such  a  thief 
steal  my  pareu  for  his  house,  and  a  bottle  of  kerosene 
for  mere  mischief.  We  will  eat  the  flesh  of  this  one's 
legs,  and  I  will  melt  his  fat  against  the  rahui  when  I 
might  have  rheumatism." 

Nohea  showed  me  a  great  mass  of  blue  fat  under  the 
kaveus  tail,  and  from  this  he  boiled  down  a  quart  of 
the  finest  oil.  It  was  not  only  a  specific  for  rheumatism 
but  the  best  possible  lubricant  for  sewing-machines  and 
clocks,  he  said.  He  put  some  of  the  oil  in  the  sun,  and 
when  thickened  it  made  butter,  though  not  with  a  milky 
taste. 

This  thievish  crab  seemed  marked  by  his  star — doubt- 
less of  the  Cancer  constellation — to  play  a  deceptive  part 
in  the  crustacean  world,  for  not  only  had  he  practically 
abandoned  the  water  as  his  element,  learned  to  climb 
trees,  and  to  eat  food  utterly  foreign  to  his  natural  ap- 
petite, but  he  had  a  habit  of  hiding  his  tail  when  the  rest 
of  his  body  was  in  full  view.  He  would  stick  it  in  any 
convenient  hole,  under  a  log,  or  even  in  the  cocoanut- 
shell  he  had  emptied.  He  was  over-conscious  and  seem- 
ingly ashamed  of  it,  like  an  awkward  man  of  his  hands 
at  a  wedding. 


128  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

The  kaveu's  descent  from  the  hermit-crab  family 
might  explain  his  tail-concealment  custom,  for  the  her- 
mit concealed  his  entire  body  in  a  borrowed  shell,  and 
so,  perhaps,  the  robber-baron  was  but  showing  an  atavis- 
tic remnant  of  the  disguise  instinct.  The  whole  crab 
tribe  seemed  tainted  with  this  fear  of  being  merely  them- 
selves. Many  of  them  picked  up  a  piece  of  seaweed  and 
stuck  in  on  their  projecting  curved  bristles,  and  let  it 
grow  as  a  kind  of  permanent  bonnet.  Others  took 
pieces  of  live  sponge,  and  fastened  them  to  hooks  on 
their  backs.  One  clever  chap  stitched  seaweed  threads 
together  to  form  a  tube,  and  then  crawled  into  it.  And 
one  masonic  crab  mixed  a  sandy  cement  and  plastered 
its  back  with  it  until  it  looked  like  the  floor  of  its  pond. 

These  specious  masqueraders  selected  colors,  too,  to 
suit  their  background,  and  the  seaweed  or  sponge  must 
match  the  environment  or  be  rejected.  Older  and  hard- 
ened backsliders  invited  oysters  and  other  moUusks  and 
worms  that  live  in  limestone  pipes  to  dwell  on  their 
shells,  and  move  about  with  them.  I  was  convinced 
that  these  low-down-in-the-scale  beings  knew  more 
about  their  environment,  and  practised  "safety  first" 
more  assiduously,  than  did  man  himself.  The  biggest 
robber-crab  in  the  Takaroa  groves  could  not  have  got  a 
humble  hermit  brother  to  volunteer  to  go  to  war  against 
a  crab  colony,  or  risk  his  life  to  glorify  the  crab  state. 

In  carrying  a  cocoanut,  the  robber  crab  held  it  under 
some  of  its  walking  legs,  and  retired,  raised  high  on  the 
tips  of  its  other  members  a  foot  from  the  ground.  Its 
body  measured  two  feet  long  by  eighteen  inches  wide. 
It  did  not  use  its  claws  in  ascending  the  tree,  but  clung 
with  the  sharp  points  of  its  legs ;  and  I  saw  it  go  up  steep 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  129 

rocks  upon  these.  The  remarkable  strength  of  this  mol- 
lusk  was  proved  when  one  was  placed  in  an  ordinary 
tin  cracker-box,  which  it  could  not  take  hold  of,  and 
a  few  hours  later  had  twisted  off  the  lid.  Nohea  said 
that  they  were  not  easy  to  trap,  and  that  more  than  once 
a  Paumotuan,  who  had  climbed  a  tree  in  the  night  to 
procm-e  nuts,  to  his  great  horror  had  had  his  hair  seized 
by  a  crab.  He  said  that  usually  they  bit  off  from  six  to 
ten  nuts  upon  each  ascent  of  a  palm. 

"The  kaveu  likes  to  eat  the  young  turtles  when  they 
are  hatched  and  making  their  first  journey  to  the  water,** 
Nbhea  informed  *me.  "The  crab,  knowing  where  the 
eggs  are  buried,  watches  them  as  they  mature  in  the 
sand." 

I  told  Nohea  of  the  crabs  I  had  seen  in  Japanese 
waters,  some  stretching  seven  or  eight  feet,  and  another 
which  bore  a  human  face  upon  its  back.  To  see  one  of 
the  latter  crawling  upon  the  sand  was  to  see  what  ap- 
parently was  a  human  mask  moving  across  the  beach. 
The  Japanese  said  that  these  crabs  were  never  known 
until  after  a  fleet  of  pirates  had  been  destroyed,  and  the 
leading  villains  beheaded  upon  the  sea-shore. 

Against  the  rat,  which  was  perhaps  a  worse  enemy  of 
the  beneficent  cocoanut  than  the  crab,  my  friend  Nohea 
had  no  safeguard.  He  could  not  afford  to  encircle  his 
trees  with  bands  of  tin,  as  did  corporate  owners  of  plan- 
tations in  Tahiti,  but  he  told  me,  with  great  appreciation, 
the  story  of  Willi,  the  clever  American  dentist,  and  his 
atoll  of  Tetiaroa,  near  Tahiti.  Once  it  was  the  resort 
of  the  kings  and  aristocracy  of  Tahiti,  the  sanatorium 
to  which  they  went  when  jaded,  or  wounded  in  war  or 
sport,  and  to  which  the  belles  retired  to  whiten  their 


130  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

complexion  by  wearing  off  the  sunburn  in  the  shade  of 
the  banyans  and  cocoanuts.  It  was  famed  in  the  annals 
of  the  Arioij  the  ancient  minstrels  of  Tahiti,  as  a  scene 
of  orgiastic  dances. 

"The  atoll  of  Tetiaroa,"  said  Nohea,  "had  always 
many  cocoanut -trees.  The  lagoon  is  as  rich  in  fish  as 
is  Takaroa.  Never  had  many  people  lived  there,  for 
it  was  tabu,  and  only  for  the  Aril,  the  nobles,  and  the 
Arioi.  But  now  it  belongs  to  the  man  who  takes  away 
teeth  from  the  head,  and  who  hammers  gold  upon  those 
that  remain." 

The  master  diver  spun  his  tale  vividly  but  slowly. 
Often  he  repeated  the  same  statement,  for  the  Paumo- 
tuan  speech,  like  that  of  all  Polynesia,  is  a  picture  lan- 
guage, and  iteration  and  harping  is  the  soul  of  it,  as  of 
the  ancient  Hebrew  chronicles. 

Upon  my  mat  and  gazing  into  the  expressive  eyes  of 
the  diver,  I  recalled  what  I  myself  had  been  told  by 
the  owner  of  Tetiaroa,  and,  with  Nohea's  story,  pieced 
together  the  facts. 

Dr.  Walter  Johnstone  Williams,  the  dentist  of  Ta- 
hiti for  twenty  years,  had,  as  related  Nohea,  taken  away 
the  teeth  of  the  South  Sea  Islanders  or  gilded  those 
which  remained.  They  love  those  shiny,  precious-metal 
teeth,  these  children  of  the  tropics,  and  would  give  al- 
most anything  to  gain  the  golden  smile  they  admired. 
So  when  the  royal  family  of  Tahiti  fell  in  debt  to  Dr. 
Williams,  they  -bartered,  in  exchange  for  fillings  and 
pullings,  facings  and  bridges,  and  for  other  good  and 
sufficient  consideration,  the  wondrous  atoll  of  Tetiaroa. 
Upon  it  the  shrewd  and  skillful  dentist  found  tens  of 
thousands  of  cocoanut-palms  which  had  grown  as  volun- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  181 

teers  in  the  generous  way  of  tropic  verdure,  and  he  him- 
self planted  tens  of  thousands  more  in  order  to  increase 
the  copra  crop.  He  found  a  plague  of  rats,  and,  being 
unwilling  to  expend  the  large  sum  that  would  be  needed 
for  the  metal  bands  which  would  frustrate  the  rats,  he 
longed  for  a  Pied  Piper  to  lead  the  pests  into  the  sea. 
But  he  bethought  himself  of  the  proverbial  appetite  of 
the  domestic  cat  for  the  rat,  and,  lacking  a  magic  whis- 
tler, he  advertised  for  cats,  offering  to  pay  a  franc  for 
each  one  brought  to  his  house  by  the  Papeete  quay.  He 
had  copies  of  his  advertisement  struck  off  on  the  press 
and  posted  upon  the  trees  in  and  about  Papeete,  as  was 
the  custom. 

The  result  was  a  flood,  a  deluge,  a  typhoon  of  cats. 
The  Tahitian  boy  was  as  eager  as  his  American  brother 
to  earn  a  few  coins  to  spend  onr  luxuries;  and  so 
the  cats,  much  like  our  own  in  appearance  except  for 
their  tails,  which  were  curved  like  a  question-mark, 
came  in  bags,  in  boxes,  and  in  nets,  while  others  were 
personally  conducted,  yowling,  in  the  arms  of  the 
Tahitian  youth. 

Dentist  Williams  had  not  expected  so  many,  and  had 
much  trouble  in  finding  places  for  them  to  reside  un- 
til he  could  remove  them  to  Tetiaroa. 

There  were  cats  in  his  office,  cats  on  the  landings, 
cats  in  every  room,  and  his  garden  was  a  boarding- 
place  of  fehnes.  When  more  than  a  thousand  had  been 
collected,  he  posted  a  notice  to  ward  off  any  further  sel- 
lers, and,  chartering  a  schooner,  hastened  with  his  live 
cargo  to  the  atoll.  There  was  no  necessity  of  putting 
down  a  gangway  from  the  vessel  to  the  little  wharf  at 
Tetiaroa,  for  once  she  was  made  fast  it  needed  but 


132  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  loosening  of  their  bonds  to  cause  the  thousand  eats 
to  reach  the  shore  in  one  bound  from  the  deck. 

Of  course,  the  cats  set  immediately  about  their  pleas- 
ant business  of  catching  and  eating  the  rodents.  There 
were  tens  of  thousands  of  them,  perhaps  hundreds  of 
thousands,  because  the  island  had  been  little  inhabited 
for  many  years  and  the  rats  had  been  multiplying 
unmolested.  But  with  a  thousand  South  Sea  Island 
cats  to  prey  upon  them,  the  easy  supply  of  rats 
was  soon  exhausted.  Then  the  cats  chased  them  up  and 
down  the  trees,  in  and  out  of  caves  and  from  every 
refuge,  so  that  there  came  a  day  when  the  last  rat 
was  in  the  maw  of  a  cat. 

Meanwhile,  with  such  rich  meat  diet  the  cats  in- 
creased mightily.  When  the  rats  were  all  gone,  they 
were  confronted  with  the  problem  of  existence  for  un- 
counted thousands  of  cats.  They  might  have  learned 
to  eat  cocoanuts,  but  they  had  become  such  confirmed 
meat-eaters  that  they  would  not  abandon  their  carnal 
appetites.  They  did  what  greed  does  the  world  over — 
what  the  Russians  did  recently — ^they  began  to  eat  one 
another.  And  they  followed  the  example  of  industrial- 
ism which  takes  the  young  in  factories. 

First  toms  and  tabbies  lay  in  wait  for  the  children  of 
other  cats,  and  soon  there  was  not  a  kitten  left  alive, 
nor  could  the  parents  prevent  the  devouring  of  their 
children  because  of  the  avid  hunger  of  the  adults. 

With  the  kittens  gone,  began  a  struggle,  with  the 
death  of  all  as  the  apparent  end  in  view.  Swifter 
and  stronger  cats  slew  weaker  cats,  and  the  cats  which 
allied  themselves  in  bands,  attacked  distant  strongholds 
of  cats.     Slowly  and  surely  went  on  this  internecine 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  133 

warfare,  with  the  seeming  certainty  that,  if  not  halted, 
one  day  the  last  two  cats  on  Tetiaroa  would  face  each 
other  in  the  final  contest  of  prowess.  Then  one  lone 
cat  might  remain  doomed  to  certain  death  from  star- 
vation, because  there  would  be  no  meat  left. 

Once  on  a  leviathan  Atlantic  liner,  when  the  usual 
exterminating  process  of  hydrocyanic  gas  could  not 
be  used,  all  food  was  removed,  and  the  rats  were  left 
to  starve,  with  a  dozen  cats  to  hasten  the  end.  But  the 
rats  ate  the  cats,  and  then  the  leather  cushions,  and 
finally  their  weaker  brethren,  until  the  last  rat  died  of 
starvation. 

But  on  Tetiaroa  when  there  were  but  a  few  dozen 
of  the  quickest,  cleverest,  and  strongest  cats  remain- 
ing, the  process  suddenly  stopped.  Atavism,  heredity, 
or  the  stern  battle  for  life,  developed  in  the  survivors 
unusual  intelligence,  or  they  had  a  return  of  plain 
cat-sense.  Perhaps  they  held  a  powwow,  or  meow- 
meow,  or  whatever  a  council  of  cats  should  be  called, 
and  decided  upon  the  one  course  that  would  preserve 
their  species.  In  any  event,  they  saved  themselves  by 
ending  the  warfare.  They  reverted  to  the  habits  of 
their  forefathers,  and  went  fishing.  It  is  as  natural 
for  a  cat  to  fish  as  for  a  dog  to  hunt  a  rabbit.  Fal- 
coner marked  the  ferocious  jaguars  of  South  America 
lying  in  wait  upon  the  shores  of  the  river  Plata  to  seize 
the  fish  that  passed  by  the  roots  of  the  trees.  My 
goldfish  ponds  in  California  were  raided  by  cats  many 
times. 

"I  myself,"  said  Nohea,  "have  seen  the  fisher-cats 
of  Tetiaroa  stretched  at  length  on  the  shores  of  the 
lagoon,  awaiting  their  prey.     I  have  seen  a  mother  cat, 


134  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

with  her  kittens  stringing  in  a  cue  behind  her,  snar- 
ing in  silence,  and  with  paws  fierce  to  strike,  the  small 
fish  which  come  in  the  eddies  of  the  shallow  pools.  I 
have  seen  the  good  parent  pass  a  small  fish  back  to 
her  child  and  smile  under  her  bristling  whiskers  at 
her  cleverness*  in  providing  such  fare  for  her  little 
ones." 

The  diver  ceased  speaking,  and  unrolled  his  mat. 
He  knelt  a  moment  and  prayed,  and  then  he  laid  him 
down,  and  in  a  moment  his  deep  breathing  was  inform- 
ing of  his  serene  slumber. 

I  lay  there  a  few  minutes  thinking  of  his  story,  of 
the  robber-crabs  and  the  fisher-cats,  and  above  me  the 
vast  fronds  of  the  cocoas  inclined  to  and  fro,  while, 
doubtless,  other  industrious  crabs,  unwarned  by  their 
kindred's  fate,  were  climbing  for  nuts. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

I  meet  a  Seventh-Day  Adventist  missionary,  and  a  descendant  of  a  mu- 
tineer of  the  Bounty — They  tell  me  the  story  of  Pitcairn  island — 
An  epic  of  isolation. 

MAPUHI,  though  a  zealous  Mormon,  was  not 
illiberal  in  his  posture  toward  other  faiths. 
In  his  long  years  he  had  entertained  a  number 
of  them  as  ways  to  salvation  before  the  apostles  of 
Salt  Lake  sent  their  evangelists  to  Takaroa.  A  day 
or  two  after  landing  he  brought  to  Nohea's  hut  two 
aliens,  whom,  he  said,  I  should  know,  because  their 
language  was  my  own.  He  introduced  them  as  Jabez 
Leek,  mahana  mcta  rrvltvnare,  a  "Saturday  missionary," 
and  Mayhew  December  Christian,  his  assistant.  They 
had  come  to  the  atoll  to  dive  in  living  waters  for  souls. 
A  few  words  and  they  were  revealed  as  exceptional 
men,  from  far-away  places.  The  Reverend  Jabez 
Leek  was  my  countryman,  as  were  the  opposing  elders 
I  had  met  here  and  at  Kaukura.  He  said,  with  our 
half-defiant  local  pride,  that  he  came  from  the  home 
of  "postum  and  grape  nuts."  A  divine  of  the 
Seventh  Day  Adventist  persuasion,  he  cheerfully  as- 
sociated diet  and  religion,  as  do  most  sects,  the  Jews 
with  kosher  foods  and  no  pork;  the  Catholics  with  ab- 
stinence from  meat  on  certain  days,  and  Mormons  from 
alcohol,  coffee,  and  tea;  and  Protestants  with  the  par- 
taking of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

135 


136  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"I  am  hoping  to  win  for  the  true  Christ  a  few  souls 
for  saving  from  the  lake  of  fire  in  that  final  day,"  said 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Leek,  with  the  accent  of  sincerity. 
There  are  few  hypocrites  among  missionaries.  They 
believe  in  their  remedies. 

Mapuhi,  when  Mr.  Leek's  declaration  was  inter- 
preted to  him  by  Mayhew  December  Christian,  was 
stirred.  He  said  so,  and  the  most  interesting  subject 
in  the  world  to  elderly  people  the  world  over — the  state 
of  man  after  death — was  discussed  eagerly,  though  with 
the  reserve  of  proselytizing  disputants.  They  agreed 
that  in  Mormonism  and  Seventh  Day  Adventism  they 
had  in  common  the  personal  reign  of  Christ  on  earth 
and  prophecy.  Joseph  Smith,  the  Mormon  prophet, 
the  pastor  from  Battle  Creek,  Michigan,  compared  with 
the  God-inspired  Ellen  G.  White,  who,  he  said,  had 
led  humanity  back  to  the  infallibility  and  perfection  of 
the  Bible  as  the  sole  rule  of  life  and  faith.  They  both 
believed  in  a  Supreme  God,  and  that  c«ily  in  the  last 
century,  two  thousand  years  after  his  son  had  been 
here  in  person,  God  had  raised  up  men  and  women  to 
conduct  sinners  to  paradise.  It  had  been  a  revolution- 
ary century  in  revealed  rehgion.  The  Battle  Creek 
preacher  began  to  tell  of  the  apocalyptic  Mrs.  White 
and  her  prophetic  announcements,  and  Mapuhi  was 
beginning  to  prick  up  his  big  brown  ears  when  he  was 
called  away.  The  Mormon  elders  needed  him  in  a  con- 
ference. The  slow,  interpreted  speech  of  the  minister 
flowed  into  rapid  English  as  he  directed  his  words  to 
me  and  Mr.  Christian.  The  latter  was  evidently  of 
mixed  blood,  with  Anglo-Saxon  features,  light-brown 
hair,  dark-blue  eyes,  but  a  dark  skin  and  the  volup- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  137 

tuous  mouth  of  these  seas.  His  voice,  too,  had  a  unique 
timbre,  and  his  English  was  slightly  confused  by 
Polynesian  arrangement  of  sentences. 

"God  has  set  his  seal  upon  rebellion  for  his  own 
purposes,"  continued  Leek.  "The  conflict  with  Satan 
is  fiercer  every  year,  but  the  Lord  listens  to  those  who 
supplicate  him.     He  is  proof  of  his  mercy." 

He  put  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  Mayhew  De- 
cember Christian. 

"The  first  white  settlers  in  the  South  Seas  were 
rebels.  They  were  traitors  to  their  king,  murderers,  and 
revolters  against  religion,  morals,  and  society.  They 
were  in  the  hands  of  Satan,  and  some  of  them  must 
perish  in  the  lake  of  fire  after  the  final  judgment.  But 
Christian  here  is  a  true  sample  of  the  strange  way  God 
works  out  his  plans.  He  is  a  great-grandson  of 
Fletcher  Christian,  who  led  the  mutiny  of  the  British 
ship  Bownty,  and  he  is  a  Seventh  Day  Adventist  and  a 
missionary  of  our  denomination." 

The  mutiny  of  the  Bownty!  A  phrase  projects  a 
hazy  page  of  history  or  raises  the  curtain  upon  an  al- 
most-forgotten episode.  Fletcher  Christian!  There 
was  a  name.  They  frightened  children  with  it  while 
he  was  still  alive,  and  it  became  a  synonym  for  insub- 
ordination at  sea.  A  thousand  sailors  in  two  gener- 
ations were  spread-eagled  or  hailed  to  the  mast  and 
given  the  cat  while  the  offended  officer  shouted,  "You  'd 
be  a  damned  Christian,  would  you?  I  '11  take  the 
Christian  out  o'  you !"  He  and  his  desperate  gang  had 
committed  the  most  romantically  infamous  crime  of 
their  time,  and  their  story  had  been  for  a  hundred  years 
singular  in  the  manifold  annals  of  violent  deeds  in  the 


138  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

tropics.  Their  rebellion  and  its  outcome  was  written 
scarlet  in  the  records  of  admiralty,  and  for  long  was 
a  mysterious  study  for  psychologists,  a  dreadful  illus- 
tration to  the  godly  of  sin's  certain  punishment,  and  the 
most  fascinating  of  temptations  to  seamen  and  adven- 
turers. 

The  Bounty  had  gone  to  Tahiti  from  England  to 
transport  breadfruit-trees  to  the  West  Indies.  George 
III  was  on  the  throne  of  maritime  England,  and  be- 
tween the  equator  and  the  polar  circle  his  flag  flew 
almost  undisputed.  Captain  Cook  had  carried  home 
knowledge  of  the  marvelous  fruit  in  Tahiti,  "about  the 
size  and  shape  of  a  child's  head,  and  with  a  taste  be- 
tween the  crumb  of  wheaten  bread  and  Jerusalem  arti- 
choke." The  West  Indies  had  only  the  scarcely 
wholesome  roots  of  the  manioc  and  cassava  as  the  main 
food  of  the  African  slaves,  and  their  owners  believed 
that  if  the  breadfruit  were  plentiful  there,  the  negroes 
would  be  able  to  work*  harder.  Lieutenant  Bligh, 
Cook's  sailing-master,  was  despatched  with  forty-four 
men  in  the  two-hundred-ton  Bounty  to  secure  the  trees 
in  the  Society  Islands,  and  fetch  them  to  St.  Vin- 
cent and  Jamaica.  When  they  at  last  reached  maturity 
there,  the  slaves  refused  to  eat  them,  and  another  dream 
of  perfection  went  by  the  board. 

Bligh  was  a  hell-roarer  of  the  quarter-deck,  of  the 
stripe  less  common  to-day  than  then,  only  because  of 
such  mutinies  as  it  prompted.  Crowded  in  a  leaky 
ship,  with  moldy  and  scanty  provisions,  half  around 
Cape  Horn,  and  all  around  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  after 
twenty-seven  thousand  miles  of  sailing,  and  a  year  and 
two  months  of  harsh  discipline  and  depressing  lack  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  139 

decent  food  or  suiScient  water,  the  green  and  lovely 
shores  of  Tahiti  were  a  haven  to  the  weary  tars.  They 
were  greeted  as  heaven-sent,  and  for  six  months  they 
ate  the  fruits  of  the  Isle  of  Venus,  swam  in  its  clear 
streams,  and  were  made  love  to  by  its  passionate  and 
free-giving  women  in  its  groves.  When,  with  a  thou- 
sand breadfruit  shoots  aboard,  Bligh  ordered  up-anchor 
and  away,  the  contrast  between  the  sweets  of  the  pres- 
ent and  the  prospect  of  another  year  of  Bligh's  tyr- 
anny, with  a  certainty  of  poverty  in  England  or  hard- 
ship at  sea,  turned  the  scale  against  the  commander. 
An  attempt  to  wreck  the  ship  by  cutting  its  cable  failed, 
but  the  second  night  of  the  homeward  voyage  Fletcher 
Christian,  master's  mate,  who  had  made  three  voyages 
under  Bligh,  being  in  charge  of  the  deck,  led  a  mutiny. 
Bligh  was  seized  in  his  bunk,  bound,  and,  with  eight- 
een of  the  crew  who  were  not  in  the  plot,  and  a  small 
amount  of  food  and  water,  set  adrift  in  a  small  boat. 
Bligh's  party  reached  Malaysia  after  overcoming  over- 
whelming dangers  and  sufferings,  and  most  of  them 
went  from  there  in  a  merchant's  ship  to  London,  where 
Bligh's  account  of  the  mutiny,  and  his  and  his  loyal 
men's  wanderings,  "filled  all  England  with  the  deepest 
sympathy,  as  well  as  horror  of  the  crime  by  which  they 
had  been  plunged  into  so  dreadful  a  situation."  The 
frigate  Pandora,  with  twenty-four  guns  and  166  fighting 
men,  blessed  by  bishops,  and  with  a  special  word  from 
the  king,  but  just  temporarily  recovered  from  his  re- 
current insanity,  sailed  speedily  to  "apprehend  the  mu- 
tineers." 

Those  hearties  had  meanwhile  arranged  their  own 
fates.     The  Bounty  was  now  a  democracy  with  Chris- 


140  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

tian  as  president,  and  the  vote,  after  an  experiment  in 
another  islet,  was  to  go  back  to  the  fair  ones  in  the 
groves  of  Tahiti.  There  sixteen  of  the  twenty-five 
aboard,  determined  to  become  landsmen,  and,  with  the 
joyous  shouts  and  hula  harmonies  of  their  native  friends, 
transferred  their  share  of  the  plunder  on  the  ship  to 
the  shore,  and  went  to  dancing  among  the  breadfruits. 
Christian  was  shrewder.  He  knew  well  the  long  arm 
of  the  British  monarchy,  and  warned  his  shipmates  their 
haven  would  be  but  for  a  little  while.  They  were  caper- 
ing to  the  pipes  of  Pan  and  would  not  listen,  and  so  with 
nine  Englishmen,  six  Tahitian  men,  ten  Tahitian  belles, 
and  a  girl  of  fifteen,  the  Bounty  weighed  and  steered 
a  course  unknown  to  those  who  stayed. 

These  latter  weltered  in  an  Elysium  of  freedom  from 
humiliations,  discipline,  work,  and  unrequited  cravings 
for  mates,  and  in  a  perfection  of  warmth,  delicious 
viands,  exaltation  of  rank,  and  amorous  damsels. 
Chiefs  adopted  them,  maidens  caressed  them,  the  tender 
zephyrs  healed  their  vapors,  and  they  were  happy;  un- 
til the  Pandora  arrived,  snared  them,  and  took  them  in 
chains  to  England,  where  they  were  tried  and  three 
hanged  in  chains  at  Spithead.  The  Pandora  reported 
that  no  trace  could  be  found  of  the  Bounty,  and  the 
most  that  could  be  done  was  to  anathematize  Christian 
and  the  mutineers,  and  to  make  the  path  of  the  ordinary 
seaman  more  thorny,  as  a  deterrent  to  others. 

For  twenty-four  years  England  heard  nothing  of  the 
further  movements  of  the  pirates.  The  new  generation 
forgot  them,  but  Christian's  name  lingered  as  a  threat 
and  a  curse.  The  ship  and  crew  disappeared  as  com- 
pletely as  though  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea;  and  when 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  141 

their  refuge  finally  was  disclosed,  horrifying  and  also 
wonderfully  poignant  chapters  were  added  to  the  log 
of  the  Bounty,  and  one  of  the  most  curious  and  affecting 
conditions  of  humanity  brought  to  light.  The  bare  out- 
line of  all  this  is  in  every  Pacific  chronography,  but 
one  must  have  heard  its  obscure  intricacies  from  a  scion 
of  a  participant  to  appreciate  fully  their  lights  and 
shadows.  Mayhew  December  Christian  told  me  these, 
and  the  Reverend  Jabez  Leek  commented  and  pointed 
the  moral. 

"My  great  grandfatheh  want  go  farthes'  from  Eng- 
alan',"  said  Mayhew,  "and  he  look  on  chart  of  Bounty 
an'  fin'  small  islan'  not  printed  but  jus'  point  of  pencil 
made  by  cap'in  where  English  ship  some  years  before 
find.  It  was  call'  Pitcairn  for  midshipman  who  firs' 
see  it  from  mas.'  He  steer  there  an'  in  twenty-three 
day  Bounty  arrive.     That  where  I  was  born." 

Not  by  any  spelling  or  clipping  of  letters  could  I 
convey  the  speech  and  accent  of  the  islander,  English, 
Tahitian,  and  American, — Middle  Western, — combined 
into  a  peculiar  patois,  soft  at  times,  and  strident  at 
others,  with  admixture  of  Tahitian  words.  He  went 
on  to  tell  how  his  ancestor  and  his  companions  looked 
with  hope  at  the  land  which  must  give  them  safety  or 
death.  They  reached  the  shore  through  a  rocky  inlet 
and  rough  breakers,  and,  on  finding  stone  images,  hatch- 
ets, and  traces  of  heathen  temples,  were  cast  down  by 
fear  of  savages.  But  as  days  passed,  and  they  gradually 
wandered  over  the  entire  island  without  trace  of  any 
present  inhabitants,  they  felt  secure.  Its  smallness  in 
that  vast  and  then  trackless  waste  of  waters  below  the 
line  reassured  them  of  its  insignificance  to  mariners  or 


142  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

rulers,  it  being  only  five  miles  long  by  two  wide,  and 
with  no  harbor  or  protected  bay.  Rugged  in  outline,  and 
uninviting  from  the  deck,  with  peaks  and  precipices 
sheer  and  sterile-looking,  the  mutineers  were  gladdened 
to  walk  through  forests  of  beautiful  and  useful  trees, 
with  fruit  and  grasses  for  making  native  clothes;  and 
about  its  borders  to  be  able  to  catch  an  abundance  of 
fish  and  crustaceans. 

They  drove  and  warped  the  ship  into  the  inlet  against 
the  cliff,  and  fastened  it  by  a  cable  to  a  mighty  tree, 
and  in  a  few  weeks  removed  everything  useful  to  the 
upland  where  they  pitched  their  first  camp.  Christian, 
with  the  determination  and  foresight  that  saved  his 
group  from  the  ignominious  end  of  those  who  would 
not  abjure  the  ease  of  Tahiti,  insisted  on  burning  the 
Bounty,  to  remove  all  indication  of  their  origin  to  vis- 
itors, and,  doubtless,  to  make  impossible  belated  efforts 
to  desert  their  sanctuary.  They  lived  in  tents  made  of 
the  canvas  until  they  built  houses  from  the  ship's  planks, 
and  these  among  the  spreading  trees  so  that  they  were 
completely  unseen  from  the  sea.  They  had  ample  pro- 
visions from  the  stores  until  they  could  raise  a  crop  of 
vegetables,  and  the  plants  they  brought  might  supple- 
ment those  indigenous.  The  island  was  covered  with 
luxurious  growths,  there  was  water,  and  they  extracted 
salt  from  pools  among  the  rocks.  They  parceled  out  all 
the  land  among  the  Englishmen,  and  each  with  his  Tahi- 
tian  wife  set  up  his  own  home.  The  Tahitian  men 
helped  different  ones  in  their  building  and  cultivation, 
and  in  peace  and  comparative  plenty  they  began  one  of 
the  most  startling  experiments  of  mankind. 

Nine  Englishmen,  mostly  rude  sailors,  with  ten  Tahi- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  143 

tian  women  and  a  girl,  and  six  Tahitian  men, — unevenly 
divided  as  to  sex,  whites  and  Polynesians  unable  to 
converse  except  meagerly,  with  totally  different  inherit- 
ance and  habits, — were  there  as  the  experimenters,  with 
no  restraint  upon  passions  or  covetings  except  the  feeble 
check  of  mutual  interests.  A  hamlet  in  the  ripest  civil- 
ization has  difficulty  to  govern  by  these.  Compromise 
through  a  supposed  expression  of  the  will  of  the  major- 
ity in  elections  has  become  an  accepted  solvent,  but  in 
reality  the  determined  and  organized  minority  wins  usu- 
ally. On  Pitcairn,  as  in  Eden,  a  woman  caused  the  fail- 
ure. After  two  years  of  associated  achievement,  the  wife 
of  Williams,  a  mutineer,  having  fallen  to  death  from 
a  cliff  while  gathering  sea-birds'  eggs,  that  subject  of 
King  George  demanded  and  was  awarded  the  wife  of 
a  Tahitian  comrade.  The  committee  of  the  whole, 
Anglo-Saxon  whole,  in  contemplation  of  their  own 
naked  souls,  could  not  deny  Wilhams.  The  woman 
left  the  hut  of  her  husband  and  shared  the  couch  of 
the  victor  in  the  award.  'There  was  no  appeal,  for 
the  supreme  court,  as  in  America,  was  final,  no  matter 
what  the  congress  of  the  people  wished.  The  lady  was 
complacent,  but  the  cuckolded  Tahitian  got  together 
his  color  majority  and  protested.  He  was  told  to 
nurse  his  wrath  in  hell,  and  the  court  administered  sum- 
mary sentences  to  all  who  disputed  its  power  or  equity. 
Timiti  had  murmured,  but,  as  mere  treason  was  too 
sublimated  a  charge,  they  brought  another  against  him, 
and  the  tribunal  was  assembled,  with  the  entire  citizenry 
as  witnesses  and  auditors.  Christian  walked  up  tmd 
down  in  the  house  as  evidence  was  offered,  and  once, 
as  he  turned,  Timiti,  sure  of  the  court's  finding,  flew 


144  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

out  of  the  door.  He  escaped  to  the  other  shore  of  the 
island,  but  after  weeks  was  decoyed  by  false  promises 
and  murdered  as  his  deceivers  combed  his  tangled  hair, 
a  sign  of  friendship. 

The  remaining  Tahitian  males  formed  a  committee  of 
vigilance,  and  voted  to  rid  the  island  of  the  entire  su- 
preme court.  Its  members  were  saved  from  immediate 
assassination  by  their  wives,  who,  in  the  way  of  women 
on  continent  and  islet,  loved  them  because  they  were 
the  fathers  of  their  children.  Moreover,  since  Cook 
claimed  as  paramour  in  Hawaii  the  Princess  Lelemah- 
oalani,  dark  women  have  been  fired  by  ambition  for  so- 
cial and  environmental  climbing  on  a  white  family  tree. 
The  wives  of  the  English  in  Pitcairn  were  able  to  inform 
their  husbands  through  the  gossip  of  the  wives  of  the 
Tahitians,  who  also  sided  with  the  whites.  One  carried 
her  adherence  far  enough  to  murder  her  spouse  while 
he  slept-  Life  was  made  fearful  for  these  wives,  and 
once  they  constructed  a  raft  and  were  beyond  the  break- 
ers to  sail  to  Tahiti  or  oblivion,  when  the  Englishmen's 
women's  wailing  and  pleading  induced  them  to  return. 
For  months  more  it  was  touch  and  go  as  to  survival. 
Murder  stalked  hourly,  and  the  oppression  of  the 
whites  became  that  of  masters  towards  slaves.  Then  the 
Tahitians  crept  into  their  huts  and  secured  the  firearms, 
and  with  these  hunted  down  the  Europeans.  They 
killed  first  John  Williams,  the  successful  litigant,  and 
then  Fletcher  Christian,  the  chief  justice,  and,  quickly, 
John  Mills,  Isaac  Martin,  and  WilHam  Brown.  Wil- 
liam McCoy,  John  Quintal,  and  John  Adams  were  fleet 
enough  to  reach  the  woods,  and  Edward  Young,  mid- 
shipman of  the  Bounty,  beloved  of  all  the  women,  was 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  145 

secreted  by  them.  John  Adams  when  hunger-pressed 
showed  himself,  and  was  shot  and  badly  wounded.  He 
ran  to  the  bluff  above  the  sea,  and  was  about  to  hurl 
himself  to  destruction  when  induced  to  refrain  by  his 
pursuers,  whose  hearts  failed  them.  Adams,  Young, 
McCoy,  and  Quintal,  but  a  quartet  of  the  nine  muti- 
neers, remained,  and  five  of  the  six  Tahitian  men.  The 
latter  had  cut  down  the  four  to  a  minority  of  the  male 
populace,  and  were  delighted  to  swear  eternal  amity. 
Adams  recovered,  and,  at  a  midnight  session,  the  whites 
released  themselves  from  their  oaths  and  decreed  the 
wiping  out  of  every  male  but  themselves.  They  swore 
as  allies  the  widows  of  the  other  sailors,  and,  as  fast  as 
dark  opportunity  offered,  the  decree  was  executed. 
They  were,  shortly,  the  only  men. 

Now  was  a  second  chance  for  peace  and  success.  The 
experiment  of  putting  together  without  higher  author- 
ity a  band  of  white  men  with  women  and  slaves  as  spoils 
had  miscarried.  The  inferior  tribesmen  were  finished, 
but  there  were  four  of  the  higher  race,  and  eleven  na- 
tive women,  still  subjects  for  further  probation.  One 
would  say  for  certain  that  on  that  lonely  speck  of  land, 
having  glutted  any  blood  lust,  and  with  twelve  of  their 
number  already  dead,  these  four  men  of  the  same  race, 
religion,  and  profession  would  get  along  somehow.  It 
was  not  to  be. 

"McCoy,"  said  Mayhew  December  Christian,  "liked 
to  drink  liquor.  Before  he*  was  a  seaman  he  worked  in 
a  distillery  in  England,  and  on  Pitcairn  he  distilled  ti 
leaves  in  his  tea-kettle.  They  all  had  drunk  his  alcohol, 
and  it  had  been  a  factor  in  the  quarrels.  He  got  worse 
as  he  became  older,  and  he  and  Quintal  kept  up  a 


146  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

continuous  spree  until  the  devil  gripped  McCoy  for  his 
own,  and  McCoy  tied  a  rock  around  his  waist  and 
leaped  into  the  sea.  Three  whites  were  left,  and  Quin- 
tal had  learned  nothing  from  the  past.  He  drank 
the  ti  liquor,  and  when  his  wife  came  from  fishing  with 
too  few  fish  he  bit  off  her  ear.  When  she  fell  from 
the  cliff  and  was  drowned,  Quintal,  with  all  the  other 
women  to  choose  from,  demanded  the  wife  of  one  of 
his  two  shipmates.  He  made  terrible  threats  against 
both  of  them,  and  they  knew  he  meant  what  he  said." 

In  the  first  case  since  its  institution  the  court  of 
Pitcairn  divided.  Adams  and  Young,  taunted  by  the 
continuing  insults  of  Quintal  to  their  matrimonial  in- 
tegrity, and  faced  with  the  probability  of  extinction  un- 
less they  acted  vigorously,  seceded  from  the  minority. 
They  deluded  Quintal  into  a  momentary  incautiousness 
when  the  recurrent  insistence  of  his  demand  was  being 
quarreled  over  in  the  presence  of  the  entire  community, 
and  butchered  him  with  a  hatchet. 

"I  heard  the  daughter  of  John  Mills,  an  old  woman, 
relate  the  incident,"  said  Mayhew.  "They  were  gath- 
ered together,  children  and  all,  in  Adams's  house,  when 
he  and  Young  jumped  upon  Quintal  and  chopped  him 
to  pieces.  The  blood  was  everywhere,  she  said,  and  we 
grew  up  with  a  song  about  it.  My  mother  used  to 
croon  it  to  oie  on  her  lap." 

Young,  midshipman,  of  gentle  breeding,  and  a  se- 
rious man  at  his  lightest,  faded  away,  and  in  his  last, 
melancholy  days,  uttered  the  name  of  God.  Con- 
vinced that  Adams  would  not  strike  him  down,  he 
gave  way  to  a  conviction  of  sin,  the  remembrance  of  his 
cliildhood  at  home.     He  died  begging  for  mercy,  which 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  147 

Adams  assured  him  would  be  granted  to  a  contrite  heart. 
They  laid  him  in  a  grave  upon  the  land  he  had  cultivated, 
and  over  him  was  said  the  first  word  of  funeral  sermon 
pronounced  in  Pitcairn.  John  Adams,  the  preacher, 
of  the  fifteen  males  who  had  sailed  in  the  Bounty  from 
Tahiti,  was  sole  survivor.  Fourteen  had  perished,  thir- 
teen violently,  in  the  search  for  happiness  and  free- 
dom from  restraint.  Man  had  almost  annihilated  his 
brother. 

John  Adams  had  a  dream  in  which  it  was  pointed  out 
to  him  that  upon  his  head  was  not  merely  the  blood  of 
the  many  who  had  been  murdered,  but  that  the  bodies 
and  souls  of  the  innocents  remaining  were  in  his  care. 

"Thou  art  thy  brother's  keeper,"  said  the  scroll  in 
his  vision.  He  counted  his  human  kind.  The  feud  had 
swallowed  fourteen  strong  and  wilful  men,  but  nature, 
as  it  had  allowed  their  crops  to  grow  and  their  trees  to 
become  fruitful,  had  preserved  eight  of  the  women,  and 
their  fertility  had  given  twenty-three  children  to  the 
mutineers.  Christian  had  fathered  three,  McCoy  three. 
Quintal  the  bold,  five.  Young  six.  Mills  two,  and  Adams 
four.  Adams  drew  about  him  these  thirty-one  beings, 
and  commenced  a  new  regimen.  He  forswore  the  de- 
mocracy of  Pitcairn,  and  in  the  sweat  of  his  soul  dedi- 
cated the  island  to  the  God  of  the  Bible  and  prayer-book 
that  had  molded  on  a  shelf  until  then.  In  tears  and  with 
vows  he  gathered  his  flock  about  him  and  daily  and 
nightly  expounded  to  them  verses  and  read  them  pray- 
ers. He  did  not  lose  sight  of  the  material  needs  in  his 
flinging  himself  on  the  compassion  of  heaven,  but  gave 
every  one  a  task  and  saw  that  it  was  done.  He  taught 
the  children  English  from  these,  the  only  books  saved, 


148  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

and  it  was  not  the  least  of  his  accomplishments  that  he 
was  able  to  make  his  language  theirs,  for  their  mothers 
knew  nothing  of  it.  The  thirty-two  became  one  family, 
the  eight  widows  looking  upon  him  as  their  father,  as 
did  the  little  ones.  Morning  and  evening,  and  all  Sun- 
day, a  stream  of  prayers  for  their  welfare  and  salvation 
was  directed  by  him  toward  the  seat  of  the  Almighty, 
and  the  theocracy  of  Pitcairn  waxed  fat  and  sweet. 
With  one  head,  and  many  hands,  yearly  increasing  as 
the  children  grew,  they  perfected  their  fields  and  bow- 
ers, their  fewer  houses  and  their  gear,  and,  born  into 
the  environment,  the  adolescents  became  marvelously 
adapted  to  its  necessities.  When  the  scene  was  un- 
veiled to  the  outer  world,  it  would  have  needed  a  Rous- 
seau to  describe  its  felicity. 

Captain  Mayhew  Folger,  a  sealer  from  Boston,  com- 
manding the  Topaz,  lifted  the  curtain  twenty  years  after 
the  mutiny  and  ten  years  after  Adams  had  become 
its  sole  survivor.  He  sailed  to  Pitcairn  to  look  for 
seals,  and  offshore  was  hailed  in  English  by  three  youths 
in  a  boat  who  offered  him  cocoanuts,  and  told  him  an 
Englishman  was  there.  He  landed,  and  was  received 
with  warm  hospitality.  He  put  down  Adams's  state- 
ment in  the  Topaz's  log,  with  the  comment  that  what- 
ever his  crimes  in  the  past,  he  was  now  "a  worthy  man, 
and  might  be  useful  to  navigators  who  traverse  this 
immense  ocean."  He  also  recorded  that  Adams  gave 
him  hogs,  cocoanuts,  and  plantains. 

England  did  not  gain  a  clue  to  the  "mystery  of  the 
Bounty"  through  the  Topaz  log.  Captain  Folger 
tarried  a  day  at  Pitcairn,  and  his  ship  was  confiscated  at 
Valparaiso  shortly  afterwards  by  the  Spanish  governor 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  149 

of  Chile.  Young  America  and  England  were  not  close 
friends,  and  their  navies  and  merchant  marines  were  at 
odds.  Six  years  elapsed  before  even  the  British  ad- 
miralty knew  the  facts.  They  were  gained  on  an  ex- 
pedition of  immense  interest  to  Americans.  Captain 
Porter,  of  the  Yankee  navy,  had  been  not  long  before 
in  the  Marquesas  Islands,  to  which  he  had  taken  prize 
ships  captured  in  the  war  between  Great  Britain  and 
the  United  ^ates,  and  where  he  had  flown  the  American 
flag  in  token  of  possession,  and  killed  many  helpless 
natives  to  indicate  his  power.  The  British  captured 
Porter  in  the  Essex,  undid  at  Nuku-Hiva  what  he  had 
done,  and  did  it  over  in  the  name  of  King  George. 
Bound  from  the  Marquesas  to  Chile,  Captain  Staines 
of  the  Briton  unexpectedly  sighted  Pitcairn  and  was 
confounded  at  the  signs  of  human  life  in  huts  and  laid- 
out  fields,  but  more  so  when  Thursday  October  Christian 
and  George  Young  shouted  from  a  small  boat  to  "throw 
them  a  rope."  Invited  aboard  the  Briton  and  put 
at  table,  they  asked  a  blessing  in  English,  and  said  they 
had  been  taught  by  John  Adams  of  the  Bounty  to 
reverence  God  in  every  act.  The  Briton  commander, 
amazed  at  this  apparition  of  civilization  from  the  ghostly 
past,  put  ashore  a  party,  and  investigated  the  colony 
of  forty-eight.  The  stupified  Pitcairn  folk  were  afraid 
that  Adams  would  be  taken  prisoner,  and  he  doubtless 
would  have  been  except  for  the  pleadings  of  the  young, 
and  especially  of  Adams's  "beautiful  grown  daughter." 
The  captain  stayed  a  few  hours  and  reported  to  the 
admiralty  in  England  the  answer  to  the  Bounty  rid- 
dle, and  that  never  in  his  lifetime  had  he  seen  such  a 
model  settlement  or  such  virtuous  and  happy  people. 


150  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

England  was  at  war  with  Napoleon,  and  left  Adams 
to  time.  Ten  years  later  came  a  British  whaler,  and 
Adams  confessed  himself  old  to  its  captain.  He  begged 
for  a  helper  in  governing  his  commonwealth,  and  espe- 
cially in  teaching  them.  The  captain  assembled  the  crew 
and  asked  for  a  volunteer.  John  Buffet,  twenty-six, 
cabinet-maker,  twice  shipwrecked,  and  a  lover  of  his 
fellow,  stepped  out  and  was  accepted.  He  knew  that  it 
meant  years  of  isolation  from  Europe,  but  that  was 
what  he  had  craved  in  his  rovings.  When  his  ship  was 
ready  to  sail,  Johnny  Evans,  nineteen,  Buffett's  chum, 
was  missing.  He  had  hidden  in  a  hollow  stump.  The 
community  was  obliged  to  receive  him.  And  so  two 
white  men,  fresh  from  Europe,  became  members  of  a 
family  of  several  score  half-breeds  who,  in  an  idyllic 
simplicity  and  a  gentle  savagery,  had  lived  for  years 
undisturbed  by  a  foreign  or  dissentient  element,  and 
who  in  their  common  affection  and  openness  of  heart 
were  remindful  of  the  Christians  of  the  catacombs.  The 
second  period  of  Pitcairn  was  ended. 

It  continued  as  a  secluded  handful  of  people,  but  new 
theocracies  began  to  govern  them.  God  had  been  al- 
ways their  dependence  and  lord  paramount,  but  his  vice- 
gerents had  guided  them  in  tortuous  paths  toward  his 
throne. 

The  Reverend  Jabez  Leek,  who  had  often  supplied 
links  in  the  chain  which  had  led  the  relation  of  Mayhew 
December  Christian  from  the  mutiny  to  the  coming  of 
Buffett  and  Evans,  said  this: 

"I  was  induced  to  go  to  Pitcairn  by  the  devotion  of 
one  of  its  sons  to  the  place  of  his  birth,"  he  explained. 
"I  met  him  in  California.     He  was  a  young  man,  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  151 

one  of  the  few  Pitcairners  who  had  ever  been  to 
America.  He  had  voyaged  to  England  as  a  sailor  on 
a  ship  that  had  touched  at  Pitcairn,  and  was  trying  to 
return  home.  That  seemed  impossible.  Twice  he  had 
shipped  on  vessels  bound  for  Australia,  with  promises 
to  land  him  if  the  wind  permitted,  and  once  had  sighted 
his  island,  but  his  ships  were  driven  past  both  times, 
and  he  had  been  forced  to  go  half-way  round  the  world 
on  them.  He  toid  me  that  he  had  left  home  in  order 
to  earn  money  to  start  married  life  better.  He  hac 
engaged  himself  to  a  Pitcairn  girl,  and,  as  is  the  custom 
there,  the  marriage  day  was  put  three  years  away.  It 
was  already  two  years  and  a  half  since  he  had  departed. 
He  had  not  the  means  to  charter  a  ship, — that  would 
have  cost  thousands, — and  his  health  was  fast  going. 
Just  homesickness.  It  was  nothing  else.  The  doctors 
said  there  was  nothing  the  matter  with  his  body,  but  he 
got  weaker.  There  was  no  ship  offering,  and  I  doubt  if 
he  could  have  passed  muster,  but  daily  he  examined  the 
shipping  lists,  and  often  went  to  the  docks  and  offices 
to  get  a  chance.  It  was  he  who  told  me  about  Pitcairn 
and  its  God-fearing  people,  and  he  first  introduced 
me  to  the  true  rehgion  of  Christ.  He  was  a  sincere 
Seventh  Day  Advent ist,  and  confident  of  the  coming 
of  Christ  on  earth  and  of  his  own  salvation.  It  was 
pitiful  to  see  him  fail.  We  lodged  in  the  same  house, 
and  I  talked  to  him  daily.  He  said  that  when  he  saw 
Pitcairn  receding  in  the  distance  after  seven  months  on 
the  Silverhorn,  he  could  not  leave  the  rail  of  the  ship, 
and  remained  there  when  night  came  peering  into  the 
darkness  until  at  dawn  he  had  to  take  up  his  duties. 
His  only  hope  was  in  God,  but  he  was  destined  to  wait 


152  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

until  the  first  resurrection,  unknowing  time  or  space, 
until  he  comes  before  the  judgment  of  God.  As  the 
day  set  for  his  marriage  came  nearer,  he  abandoned 
desire  to  live  past  it,  and  the  only  sorrow  he  had  was 
that  his  sweetheart  could  not  know  his  inability  to  keep 
his  troth.  He  died  the  day  before  the  three  years  ex- 
pired, and  in  his  last  moments  advised  me  that  God  had 
made  him  the  channel  through  which  the  truth  of  re- 
ligion might  be  made  known  to  me.  His  death  opened 
my  eyes,  and  I  accepted  the  gospel. 

"I  studied  for  our  ministry,  and,  with  service  in  other 
fields,  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  chosen  to  go  to 
Pitcairn  after  expressing  my  earnest  desire  to  see  God's 
will  and  power  shown  in  such  manifest  ways.  Our  de- 
nomination had  its  own  missionary  vessel,  the  Pitcairn, 
doing  the  Master's  work  in  these  seas,  and  I  went  on  it. 
On  the  thirty-third  day  we  came  to  Bounty  Bay  and 
anchored,  and  in  the  boat  that  put  off  to  greet  us,  be- 
sides two  of  our  own  elders,  was  this  young  man,  great- 
grandson  of  the  Fletcher  Christian  who  had,  we  fear, 
died  without  knowing  God's  mercy.  I  remained  on 
Pitcairn  a  long  time,  a  fruitful,  peaceful  span,  for  all 
there  were  devout  members  of  our  church,  and  God  had 
blessed  them  greatly  in  faith  and  works.  They  had  not 
been  without  religious  trials,  though,  and  it  was  only  in 
1886  that  they  received  the  gift  of  the  truth.  Buffett, 
the  young  Englishman  upon  whom  Adams  put  the 
teaching,  married  Midshipman  Young's  daughter,  Dor- 
othy; and  Evans,  John  Adams's  girl,  Rachel.  They 
were  there  a  half  dozen  years  when  George  Hun  Nobbs 
arrived  with  an  American  named  Bunker.  They  came 
from  Chile  in  a  yawl.     Nobbs  had  heard  there  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  153 

Bounty  story,  and  was  so  excited  over  it  that  he  induced 
Bunker  to  start  out  with  him  for  Pitcairn  in  a  small  boat. 
Nobbs  said  he  was  the  son  of  a  Marquis,  and  soon 
claimed  the  hand  of  Sarah  Christian,  the  mutineer's 
granddaughter.  Bunker  tried  for  her  sister,  Peggy, 
and  when  she  refused,  threw  himself  from  a  cliff,  as 
McCoy  had  done  long  before.  Nobbs  built  a  house  out 
of  the  lumber  of  his  boat,  and,  because  he  was  the  best 
educated  man,  took  Buffett's  place  as  schoolmaster. 
Buffett  was  angry,  but  the  people  chose  Nobbs  because 
Buffett  had  fallen  once  into  a  very  terrible  sin.  Every- 
body knew  it,  and  though  he  had  repented  bitterly,  it 
was  remembered.  Then  John  Adams  died  after  forty 
years  on  Pitcairn,  and  thirty  of  contrition,  and  Nobbs 
became  pastor,  too. 

"A  tremendous  change  came  about  then.  Tahiti  was 
controlled  by  the  London  Protestant  missionaries;  and 
they  made  an  arrangement  with  the  Pitcairners  to  give 
them  land,  and  transportation  to  Tahiti.  Every  one 
was  moved  to  Tahiti,  and  Pitcairn  left  uninhabited.  In 
Papeete  they  saw  for  the  first  time  in  their  hves,  money, 
immorality,  saloons,  vile  dances,  gambling,  and  scarlet 
women.  Buffett  and  his  family  returned  within  a  few 
weeks,  and  after  fourteen  had  died  of  fever,  a  schooner 
was  chartered  to  take  all  back.  It  was  paid  for  by 
the  copper  stripped  from  the  Bounty,  which  had  been 
carried  to  Tahiti.  Back  in  their  old  homes,  all  was  not 
as  before.  Adams  had  never  broken  the  still  used  by 
McCoy  and  Quintal,  and  it  began  to  be  more  active. 
Nobbs  and  Buffett,  though  good  men,  liked  a  drop  of 
the  ti  juice,  and  there  was  a  let-down  in  strict  morahty. 
Things  were  at  a  pass  when  Joshua  Hill  arrived.     In 


154,  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

England  he  had  learned  about  Pitcaim,  and  through 
Hawaii  and  Tahiti  had  come  a  roundabout  route.  Hill 
pretended  to  have  been  deputized  by  the  British  Govern- 
ment, and  declared  he  was  the  governor  and  pastor,  both. 
He  fired  out  Nobbs  from  the  church  and  school,  and 
made  no  bones  of  what  he  thought  of  Buff ett  and  Evans, 
the  other  Englishmen.  Hill  was  past  seventy,  but  he 
had  his  way.  Nobbs,  Buffet,  and  Evans  were  supported 
by  Charles  Christian,  Fletcher's  son,  but  Hill  ruled  with 
an  iron  hand.  He  had  Buifett  beaten  with  a  cat-o'- 
nine-tails  in  public,  and  announced  that  he  was  going 
to  reform  Pitcairn  if  he  had  to  flog  every  person.  He 
quoted  Jesus's  action  in  the  temple,  and  when  he  heard 
that  several  of  the  women  had  been  talking  about  his 
qwn  dereliction,  he  called  everybody  in  prayer  to  judge 
them.     His  own  prayer  was : 

"  'O  Lord,  if  these  women  die  the  common  death  of  all 
men,  thou  hast  not  sent  me.'  " 

"This  was  going  too  far,  and  there  were  no  amens, 
which  made  Hill  furious.  I  have  heard  this  from  one 
who  was  present.  When  he  learned  about  BufFett's 
sin,  and  that  it  had  been  concealed  from  him,  he  made 
up  his  mind  to  give  Buff  ett  an  unforgettable  lesson  with 
a  whip.  Then  he  put  the  three  whites  on  the  first 
vessel  touching  Pitcairn,  and  exiled  them.  This  was 
the  straw  that  broke  Hill's  rule.  A  schooner  captain 
brought  back  the  trio,  and  they  and  others  opposed 
Hill.  An  elder's  daughter  took  some  yams  that  did  not 
belong  to  her,  and  at  her  trial  Hill  said  she  should  be 
executed  for  her  crime.  The  father  indignantly  op- 
posed any  severe  sentence.  Hill,  who  had  felt  his  au- 
thority lessening,  rushed  into  his  room  and  returned 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  155 

with  a  sword,  and  shouted  out  for  the  father  to  confess 
his  sins  as  he  intended  to  kill  him  immediately.  A 
grandson  of  Quintal,  who  had  bitten  his  wife's  ear  off, 
leaped  over  a  table,  and  though  he  threw  Hill  down,  he 
could  not  prevent  Hill  from  stabbing  him  many  times. 
Others  came  to  his  rescue,  and  Hill  was  disarmed.  He 
was  soon  deported,  as  the  Englishmen  had  written  to 
the  British  admirality  in  Chile  about  his  madness,  and 
a  war  vessel  came  to  quiet  things.  Nobbs  took  hold 
again,  and  when  our  missionary  came,  they  were  ready 
for  the  real  word  of  God.  Within  two  weeks  they  all  had 
given  up  Sunday  as  the  Sabbath  and  were  keeping  Sat- 
urday, the  Seventh  Day,  the  Sabbath  instituted  at  the 
end  of  creation,  and  the  day  Christ  and  his  apostles 
rigidly  observed.  I  loved  the  Pitcairn  brethren. 
When  my  time  came  to  go  into  other  fields,  I  brought 
with  me  Mayhew  December  Christian,  who  had  been 
selected  for  his  understanding  of  our  beliefs  and  his 
spiritual  growth." 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Leek  stopped,  and  Nohea,  who 
had  awakened  with  a  start  from  a  fitful  slumber,  said 
loudly,  "Amener 

"You  should  read  the  account  of  Pitcairn  by  Buffett's 
granddaughter,"  said  the  minister.  "Mayhew,  we  will 
sing  before  we  go  to  sleep  our  hymn  of  Pitcairn,  fifth 
and  last  verses  I" 

The  descendant  of  the  arch-mutineer  led  in  a  mellow 
baritone,  which  Mr.  Leek  supported  in  a  firm  bass: 

**We  own  the  depths  of  sin  and  shame. 
Of  guilt  and  crime  from  which  we  came; 
Thy  hand  upheld  us  from  despair. 
Else  we  had  sunk  in  darkness  there. 


156  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"Thou  know'st  the  depths  from  whence  we  sprung; 
Inspire  each  heart,  unloose  each  tongue, 
That  all  our  powers  may  join  to  bless 
The  Lord,  our  strength  and  righteousness." 

When  they  had  said  good  night,  I  felt  as  sinful  as 
Mary  Magdalene;  and  Nohea,  though  the  words  were 
Greek  to  him,  sensed  their  meaning,  and  before  taking 
to  his  mat  knelt  and  groaned  deeply. 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  fish  in  the  lagoon  and  sea — Giant  clams  and  fish  that  poison — 
Hunting  the  devil-fish — Catching  bonito — Snarling  turtles — Trepang 
and  sea  cucumbers — The  mammoth  manta. 

THE  schooner  Marara  unloaded  her  cargo  of 
suppHes  after  several  days  of  riding  on  and 
off  the  lee  of  the  island,  and  went  on  her 
voyage  to  other  atolls.  McHenry  and  Kopcke  joined 
interests  for  the  nonce,  and  tried  to  draw  me  into  the 
net  they  said  they  were  spreading  for  the  natives.  I 
was  convinced  that  I  was  as  edible  fish  for  them  as  the 
Paumotuans,  and,  besides,  I  was  determined  to  avail 
myself  of  the  leisure  of  the  wise  Nohea  before  the  rahuh 
to  learn  all  about  the  fish  in  the  lagoon  and  sea.  An 
ignorant  amateur  of  the  life  of  the  ocean,  I  was  de- 
voured with  curiosity  to  peer  into  it  under  his  guidance, 
and  I  was  resolute  to  spend  my  days  in  such  sport 
instead  of  in  sleep  after  roistering  of  nights  with  the 
traders. 

"Nohea,"  I  said,  "will  you  show  me  what  the  Creator 
has  put  in  the  water?  In  my  country  I  know  the  fish, 
but  not  here.  Soon  you  will  go  to  the  rdhui,  but  we 
have  a  few  weeks  yet,  and  you  are  skilled  in  these 
matters." 

The  diver  replied,  "E,  I  will  show  you" ;  and  he  kept 
his  word,  with  a  prideful  exactitude.  Days  and  nights 
I  returned  dog-weary,  from  the  sea  and  the  lagoon,  but 
never  once  threw  myself  on  my  mat  and  counted  my 

IS7 


158  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

pains  for  naught,  as  scores  of  times  I  had  on  the  brooks, 
bays,  and  oceans  of  America.  With  our  variety  of 
edibles  in  islands  and  continents  where  there  are  real 
soil  and  domestic  animals  of  many  kinds,  we  can  hardly 
appreciate  the  desperate  necessity  of  the  Paumotuans 
to  comb  the  waters  of  their  bare  atolls  for  food. 

The  pig,  the  only  domestic  mammifer  before  the 
whites  came  a  century  ago,  ate  only  cocoanuts,  and, 
like  fowls,  was  generally  small  and  thin,  as  well  as  too 
expensive  for  other  meals  than  feasts.  Few  were  the 
birds  in  these  white  islands.  In  many  only  the  sand- 
piper, the  frigate,  the  curlew,  and  the  tern  were  found, 
but  in  uninhabited  atolls  others  abounded.  I  saw  many 
pigeons,  black  with  rusty  spots  which  lived  in  the  tohonu 
tree  and  ate  its  seeds  and  also  those  of  the  nono.  Green 
pigeons  or  doves,  called  oo,  were  sometimes  seen. 
None  of  these  constituted  any  part  of  the  diet. 

Except  for  cocoanuts,  the  atoll  yielded  few  growths 
of  value.  The  most  characteristic  was  a  small  tree 
or  bush  with  white  flowers,  the  mikimiki,  the  wood  of 
which  was  very  dense.  It  grew  even  in  the  most  solid 
coral  blocks,  and  was  formerly  much  used  for  the 
great  shark -hooks,  for  harpoons,  and  handles  for  their 
shovels  of  shells.  The  huhu,  another  little  tree,  with 
yellow  blossoms  and  the  general  appearance  of  the 
mikimiki,  was  useless  for  timber,  but  the  kahia,  with 
deliciously-perfumed  flowers,  made  an  excellent  fuel. 
The  geogeo  furnished  boat-knees,  the  tou  was  fit  for 
canoes,  and  the  pandanus,  the  screw-pine,  filled  al- 
most as  many  needs  as  the  cocoanut-palm.  Its  fruit 
was  eaten  by  poor  islanders,  its  wood  and  leaves  formed 
their  houses,  its  leaves  also  made  mats  and  hats  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  159 

the  sails  of  the  pahi,  the  sailing  canoes,  and,  as  through- 
out Polynesia,  the  wrappers  of  cigarettes.  All  the 
clothing  was  formerly  made  of  this  prince  of  trees 
for  native  wants.  The  tamanu  was  scarce,  and  purau; 
but  there  were  some  herbaceous  plants,  the  cassytha 
filiformis,  which  climbed  on  the  huhu  and  the  miki- 
miki;  a  little  Upturns  repens;  a  heliotrope;  a  crucifer- 
ous plant,  and  a  purslane  that  afforded  a  poor  salad, 
and  was  also  boiled.  I  also  saw  the  nono,  not  here 
the  arrow  of  Cupid  as  in  Tahiti,  but  a  sour  fruit,  eaten 
only  when  hunger  compelled. 

In  Takaroa,  particularly  favored  by  absence  of  cy- 
clones, by  safety  of  harbor,  breadth  and  depth  of  pass 
into  the  lagoon,  and  plentitude  of  cocoa-palms  and 
pearl-shell,  herculean  efforts  had  been  made  by  bring- 
ing whole  schooner  cargoes  of  soil  to  grow  some  of  the 
food  plants  and  trees  of  Tahiti,  but  all  such  growths 
were  a  trivial  item  in  the  daily  demand  for  sustenance. 

When  Polynesians  in  their  legends  spoke  of  a  rich 
island,  they  described  it  as  abounding  in  fish,  as  the 
Jews,  pastoral  tribes,  sang  of  milk  and  honey,  the  red 
Indian  of  happy  hunting-grounds,  and  Christians  of 
streets  of  gold,  and  harps  and  hymns. 

Shell-fish,  mollusks  and  crustaceans,  played  as  im- 
portant a  part  in  their  aliment  as  ordinary  fish,  and 
ia  or  ika  meant  both.  In  some  islands  the  people  were 
forced  to  subsist  largely  on  taclobo,  the  furbelowed 
clam  or  giant  tridacna  called  pahua  here  and  henitier 
in  Europe,  where  the  shells  were  used  for  holy  water 
fonts.  The  flesh  of  the  pahua  was  sold  in  the  Papeete 
market  but  was  not  a  delicacy.  The  clam  itself  weighed 
up  to  fifty  pounds  or  more,  and  the  pair  of  shells 


160  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

from  a  dozen  to  eight  hundred  pounds  according  to 
the  age  of  the  living  clams.  The  shells  were  so  hard 
that  they  furnished  the  blades  of  the  shovels  with  which 
the  native  had  anciently  dug  wells  to  hold  the  brack- 
ish water. 

"The  pahua  is  also  a  devil,"  said  Nohea.  "In  the 
lagoon  he  lies  with  his  shells  open  to  catch  his  prey. 
Many  a  shark  has  torn  off  his  tail  in  trying  to  get  free 
when  the  pahua  has  closed  on  him,  or  has  died  in  the 
trap.  When  a  young  man,  I  put  my  hand  into  a 
shell  not  bigger  than  your  face,  and  it  shut  upon  it. 
I  was  feeling  for  pearl-shell  under  fifty  feet  of  water. 
I  could  not  reach  the  threads  that  anchor  the  clam  to 
the  rock  because  it  was  in  a  crevice.  If  I  could  have 
cut  them  I  could  have  freed  myself,  but  I  was  able 
after  a  minute  to  force  my  knife  beside  my  hand  and 
stab  the  pahua  so  that  it  let  me  go.  Paumotuans  have 
often  lost  their  lives  in  the  pahua's  shells,  and  one  cut 
off  his  fingers  and  left  them  to  the  fish.  I  always 
drive  my  knife  into  him,  and  then  cut  the  cord  that 
ties  him  to  the  rock.  They  are  hard  to  lift, — ^the  big 
pahua, — and  often  we  must  leave  them.  Sometimes 
they  have  pearls  in  them  that  are  very  fine — not  like 
oyster-pearls,  but  just  like  the  white  inside  of  the  clam- 
shell itself,  which  is  like  the  marble  of  the  tombstone 
of  Mapuhi's  wife." 

Nohea  rubbed  me  every  day  with  the  oil  from  the 
robber-crab's  tail,  and  my  wounds  healed  quickly,  al- 
though the  scars  remained.  He  said  that  Paumotuans 
died  of  coral  poisoning,  but  usually  recovered,  unless 
their  blood  was  tainted  by  tona,  the  syphilis  brought 
originally  by  the  white,  and  which  the  Paumotuan  cured 


Photo  by  Dr.  Theodore 


land 
A  canoe  on  the  lagoon 


Photo  by  Dr.  Theodore  P.  Cleveland 

Ready  for  the  fishing 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  161 

with  native  remedies.  He  pointed  to  a  species  of  corals 
which  stung  one  if  touched.  The  stony  branches  or 
plates  when  fresh  from  the  water  had  a  harsh  feeUng 
and  a  bad  smell,  but  were  not  slimy.  They  pricked 
me  when  pressed  against  my  arm,  and  the  sting  lasted 
from  a  few  minutes  to  half  an  hour,  with  different  speci- 
mens. The  sensation  was  as  painful  as  from  nettles 
or  the  Physalia,  the  Portuguese  man-of-war.  One 
coral,  sulphurous  or  dark  in  color,  Nohea  warned  me 
not  to  touch,  saying  it  would  cause  my  hand  and  arm 
to  swell  for  days.  There  was  a  jellyfish,  he  said,  the 
keakea,  that  in  certain  months,  January,  February,  and 
March,  almost  filled  the  lagoon,  and  they  stung  so 
fiercely,  especially  about  the  eyes,  that  diving  ceased  as 
soon  as  they  appeared. 

There  were  fish,  too,  that  were  deadly  to  eat,  some 
at  one  time  and  some  at  another,  as  fish  venomous  in 
one  lagoon  were  innocuous  in  another.  Some  isles  were 
blessed  by  having  no  poisonous  fish,  as  Hao,  Amanu, 
Negonego,  Marokau,  Hikueru,  Vahitahi,  Fakahina,  and 
Pukapuka.  Marutea  of  the  north,  Raraka,  Kauehi, 
Katiu,  Makemo,  Takume,  Moruroa,  and  Marutea  of 
the  south,  were  cursed  by  the  opposite  condition.  In 
Rangira  only  the  haamea  of  the  pass  was  hurtful. 
The  meko  was  the  most  feared  fish  at  Marutea  of  the 
south,  occasioning  a  terrible  dysentery  with  cramps, 
which  ended  in  vertigo  and  extreme  weakness.  Mul- 
lets, also,  were  often  harmful  in  certain  lagoons,  and 
the  muraena  killed. 

What  made  these  fish  poisonous?  Science  guessed 
that  the  larvae  of  the  coral  animals  were  the  cause. 
These  fish  ate  the  coral,  and  it  was  noticed  that  in  De- 


162  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

cember,  January,  and  February,  at  the  time  the  corals 
expelled  their  larvae, — were  in  blossom,  as  the  expres- 
sion went, — the  toxicity  of  the  fish  was  highest.  Other 
fish  were  made  poisonous  by  eating  the  sea-centipede, 
curious  creatures  which  looked  like  yards  of  black 
string  and  wound  themselves  around  the  corals.  They 
had  thousands  of  minute  legs. 

While  all  land-crabs  were  safe  to  eat,  certain  sea- 
crabs  were  injurious,  one  in  particular,  a  stark  white 
species,  which  was  death  to  swallow,  and  which  de- 
spairing Paumotuans  had  bolted  as  a  suicide  potion. 
Even  certain  starfish  must  be  avoided,  one,  a  lovely 
cone-shaped  kind,  being  deadly,  their  barbs  injecting 
a  virulent  poison  which  speedily  dilated  the  arm  and 
then  the  body  hugely,  and  made  the  heart  stop  beat- 
ing. To  the  native  such  illnesses  were  awesome  mys- 
teries, yet  he  had  learned  ages  ago  to  distinguish  the 
baneful  fishes  by  the  empire  path  of  pain  and  death 
which  all  races  have  trod  toward  safety  from  the  en- 
emies of  mankind.  His  more  open  foes,  whom  he 
hunted  for  food,  the  native  met  fearlessly,  and  fought 
with  adroitness. 

The  devilfish,  or  octopus,  frequented  mostly  the  out- 
side of  the  reef  and  preyed  on  mollusks  and  crustaceans, 
being  naturally  timid  and  inoffensive,  though  capable 
of  affrighting  attack  when  molested.  They  commonly 
took  up  their  abode  in  some  cavern  or  crevice,  and  lay 
safely  ensconced  in  the  shadow,  simulating  the  color 
of  their  surroundings  so  artfully  that  their  victims 
hardly  ever  saw  them  until  grasped  by  the  suckers  of 
the  many  long,  muscular  arms. 

"In  Samoa,"  said  Nohea,  when  we  went  to  a  certain 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  163 

spot  to  seek  out  the  devilfish,  "is  the  Fale  o  le  Fe'e,  the 
House  of  the  Octopus.  It  is  very  large,  with  black 
basalt  walls,  and  has  a  pillar  in  the  center.  It  was 
built  to  guard  against  the  tribe  of  giants  who  once 
traded  with  Samoa." 

The  devilfish  was,  as  I  said,  at  most  times  shy  and 
harmless  but,  when  roused,  the  most  dangerous  of  an- 
tagonists. We  met  one  at  close  quarters  the  third  time 
we  paddled  to  the  caves  or  recesses  in  the  coral  rock.  It 
was  near  sunset,  and  there  were  already  black  shadows 
about  the  ledge,  which  at  low  tide  disclosed  the  niches 
wrought  in  it  by  the  action  of  the  water.  In  one  of 
these  I  saw  two  fiery  eyes  with  white  rims  as  big  as  din- 
ner-plates, and  Nohea  said  to  beware,  that  they  belonged 
to  an  enormous  je'e.  Nahea  had  a  mighty  spear  or  grain 
with  three  points  of  solid  iron,  and  a  heavy,  long  shaft,  on 
a  rope  attached  to  the  prow  of  the  canoe.  Better  still 
I  carried  a  rifle  with  bullets  that  would  kill  a  wild  bull. 
Nohea  steered  the  canoe  up  to  the  nook  and  thrust  out 
a  long,  light  stick  toward  the  glittering  eyes.  The 
cuttlefish  threw  out  one  tentacle  upon  it.  Nohea 
teased  him  as  one  might  tease  a  cat,  and  another  ten- 
tacle took  hold.  Again  the  stick  was  manipulated, 
and  finally,  after  half  an  hour,  ten  arms  were  fastened 
tightly  upon  the  rod.  Nohea  gently  drew  the  rod  to- 
ward him,  and  the  je'e  emerged  from  his  den,  so  that, 
though  the  light  was  growing  dim,  I  was  able  for  a 
minute  to  survey  him  in  the  fullest  detail,  as  I  sat 
with  my  rifle  to  my  shoulder. 

His  body,  bigger  than  a  barrel,  was  like  a  dirty  gray 
bag,  with  one  end  three-cornered  for  use  as  a  steering- 
fin,  or  rudder.     His  mouth  was  like  an  opening  in  a 


164  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

sack,  with  a  thick,  circular  lip  and  a  great  parrot-like 
beak,  which  was  almost  hidden  at  the  moment.  His 
tentacles  were  in  a  circle  around  the  mouth,  and  were 
large  at  the  trunk  and  tapering  to  the  ends.  Two  main 
arms  with  which  he  supported  himself  against  the  rock 
were  twice  as  long  as  the  others,  and  differently  formed. 
The  fiery  eyes  were  serpent-like,  and  set  back  of  the 
arms. 

"If  he  were  not  so  strong  I  would  jump  on  him 
now  that  I  have  his  tentacles  engaged,  and  would  bite 
the  back  of  his  neck  till  he  died,"  said  Nohea,  with 
anger.  "I  have  slain  many  that  way.  But  this  one 
would  destroy  me  in  a  moment.  Once  we  hooked  one 
by  mistake  when  we  were  fishing  for  barracuda  from 
a  canoe.  My  companion  hauled  him  to  the  side  of  the 
canoe,  when  the  octopus  threw  his  arms  about  him  and 
pulled  him  into  the  sea.  I  sprang  after  him,  and  put  my 
thumbs  in  the  eyes  of  the  beast.  He  moaned  and  cried, 
and  covered  us  with  his  black  fluid;  but  he  let  go,  and 
fled,  blinded." 

The  octopus  was  regarding  us  with  apparent  calm. 
The  rod  he  held  was  twenty-five  feet  in  length,  so  that 
our  canoe  was  more  than  twenty  feet  from  his  eyes. 
Nohea  now  agitated  the  rod,  and  the  fe'e  retained  his 
grasp,  but  began  to  change  from  a  slaty  gray  to  red, 
with  black  mottlings. 

"He  is  enraged,"  said  Nohea,  warningly.  "Pre- 
pare to  shoot  if  the  tccvero  fails!" 

He  stood  up  in  the  canoe,  and,  resting  the  bamboo 
rod  on  the  gunwale,  poised  his  spear.  The  devilfish 
felt  the  menace  of  his  attitude,  and  his  two  longest 
tentacles  began  to  writhe  in  the  air,  as  he  measured 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  165 

our  distance.  Then  Nohea,  with  a  step  back,  launched 
the  grain,  and  with  so  true  an  aim  that  it  penetrated 
the  eye  of  the  grisly  creature  and  half  unbalanced  him. 
Instantly  the  air  was  filled  with  the  cloud  of  sepia  he 
ejected, — a  confession  of  defeat, — and  the  terrible 
arms  with  their  twisting,  coiling  tips  were  thrust  at  us 
in  lightning  movements.  But  Nohea  had  seized  a 
paddle,  and  parted  us  by  thirty  feet.  The  fe'e  was 
pulled  into  the  water,  but  was  not  yet  dead.  He 
struggled  as  if  drowning,  the  great  arms  rising  and 
falling  upon  the  surface,  and  a  direful  groaning  issuing 
with  the  bubbles  that  covered  the  surface.  I  fired 
twice  at  his  bulk  seen  clearly  in  the  water,  and  after  ten 
minutes  it  relaxed  utterly.  A  musky,  dehcious  odor 
filled  the  air. 

With  immense  difficulty  we  brought  his  abhorrent 
corpse  partly  upon  the  ledge  to  measure  it,  and  to  cut 
off  some  of  the  tentacles  for  broiling.  Nohea  said  it 
weighed  a  thousand  pounds,  but  that  he  had  seen  one 
that  weighed  two  tons,  and  whose  arms  stretched  sev- 
enty feet.  The  two  longest  limbs  of  our  octopus  were 
rounded  from  the  body  to  within  two  feet  of  their  tips, 
when  they  flattened  out  like  blades.  Along  the  edges 
were  rows  of  suckers,  each  with  a  movable  membrane 
across  it.  When  these  suckers  fastened  on  an  object, 
the  membrane  reacted  and  made  a  vacuum  under  each 
sucker.  Nohea  explained  that  wherever  the  suckers 
touched  one's  flesh  it  puckered  and  bhstered,  and  two 
months  would  elapse  before  it  healed.  He  showed  me 
scars  upon  his  own  skin.  Our  octopus  had  two  thou- 
sand and  more  suckers  on  its  tentacles.    • 

"In  Japan,"  I  told  Nohea,  "I  have  seen  the  men  at 


166  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

night  sink  in  the  sea  earthenware  jars,  very  tall  and 
stout,  and  in  the  morning  find  them  occupied  each  by 
a  devilfish,  who  must  have  thought  them  suitable  to 
its  condition  in  life." 

We  had  other  methods  of  catching  the  fe*e.  One 
was  to  tie  many  pieces  of  shell  on  a  large  stick  with 
the  pointed  ends  up,  and  from  our  canoe  to  strike  the 
water  with  this.  The  resulting  noise  or  vibration  at- 
tracted the  octopi,  w'ho  thought  the  bait  alive,  and, 
eager  to  examine,  threw  themselves  upon  it  and  were 
killed  and  hoisted  aboard.  Nohea  would  strike  the 
canoe  sometimes  with  his  paddle  in  a  rhythmical  man- 
ner, and  draw  them  to  hear  the  concert,  when  he  would 
spear  them. 

At  the  rookeries  of  the  hair  seals  on  Puget  Sound, 
bounty  hunters  lure  these  destroyers  of  salmon  nets 
and  traps,  by  the  wailing  of  a  fiddle  string,  the  wheeze 
of  an  accordian,  a  hymn  upon  a  mouth  organ,  or  almost 
any  musical  note.  The  hair  seal  rises  to  the  surface  to 
listen  to  the  entrancing  notes,  and  is  shot  by  the  hunter 
from  his  boat. 

The  smaller  devilfish  Nohea  eviscerated  and  ate, 
or  gave  to  his  friends.  I  could  not  look  at  them  as 
food.  The  sepia  still  contained  in  their  sacs  he  dried 
for  bait  for  small-mouthed  fish,  and  we  used  also  the 
bellies  of  hermit-crabs,  the  tentacles  of  squid,  and  the 
tails  of  various  kinds  of  fish.  For  the  larger,  scaled 
fish,  Nohea  preferred  hooks  of  mikimiki,  which  he  carved 
from  the  bushes,  or  of  turtle-shell  or  whalebone,  though 
the  stores  had  the  modern  ones  of  steel.  For  bonito 
we  used  only,  the  pearl-hook  without  barb,  and,  of 
course,  unbaited.     The  advantage  of  the  barbless  hook 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  167 

— ^that  is,  lacking  the  backward-projecting  point  which 
makes  extraction  difficult — could,  perhaps,  be  appre- 
ciated only  by  seeing  our  way  of  fishing. 

When  we  came  into  a  school  of  bonito  pursuing  fly- 
ing-fish, I  took  the  paddle,  and  Nohea,  with  a  fifteen- 
foot  purau  rod,  and  a  line  as  long,  trailed  the  pa,  the 
pearly  hook,  on  the  surface,  so  that  it  skipped  and  leaped 
as  does  the  marara.  When  a  bonito  took  the  lure,  Nohea 
with  a  dexterous  jerk  raised  the  fish  out  of  the  water, 
and  brought  it  full  against  his  chest.  He  hugged  it 
to  him  a  second  and,  without  touching  the  hook,  threw 
it  hard  into  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  where  I  could 
strike  it  sharply  over  the  head  with  the  edge  of  my 
paddle.  The  whole  manceuver  was  a  continuous  mo- 
tion on  Nohea's  part.  The  fish  seized  the  hook,  the 
rod  shot  up  straight,  the  bonito  came  quickly  to  his 
bosom,  he  embraced  it,  and,  with  no  barb  to  release,  it 
slipped  off  the  bone  into  his  powerful  grip,  and  was 
hurled  upon  the  hard  wood.  Thus  no  time  was  lost, 
and  the  hbok  was  in  the  water  in  another  instant.  Once 
or  twic^when  I  failed  in  my  part  the  bonito  raised  itself 
on  the  end  of  its  tail,  and  shot  through  the  air  to  its 
element.  That  Nohea  was  not  hurt  by  the  fish  when 
they  were  brought  bang  against  his  chest,  can  be  ex- 
plained only  by  his  dexterity,  which  doubtless  avoided 
the  full  impact  of  the  heavy  blow.  The  bonito  weighed 
from  thirty  to  a  hundred  pounds. 

The  turtle-shell  for  the  hooks  Nohea  got  from  the 
turtles  which  he  caught.  They  were  a  prime  dish  in 
the  Paumotus,  especially  the  great  green  turtle.  The 
very  word  for  turtle,  honu,  meant  also  to  be  gorged, 
associating  the  reptile  itself  with  feasting.     The  thought 


168  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

of  turtle  caused  Nohea,  a  fairly  abstemious  man,  to 
water  at  the  mouth  and  to  rub  his  stomach  in  concentric 
circles,  as  if  aiding  in  its  digestion.  The  honu  was 
in  the  days  of  heathenry  sacred  to  high  livers,  the 
priests  and  chiefs,  and  was  eaten  with  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance; to  make  sure  of  their  husbanding,  they 
were,  in  the  careful  way  of  the  old  Maoris,  taboo  to 
women  and  children  under  pain  of  death.  An  old  can- 
nibal chief  was  called  the  Turtle  Pond  because  he  had 
a  record  of  more  than  a  hundred  humans  eaten  by  him. 
Turtles  were  of  two  hundred  species,  and  were  found 
six  feet  long  and  weighing  eight  hundred  pounds,  but 
more  ordinarily  in  the  Paumotus  from  a  hundred  to 
four  hundred.  After  a  feast  the  pieces  of  turtle  meat 
were  put  into  cocoanut-shells,  with  the  liquid  fat  poured 
over  them,  and  sealed  with  a  heated  leaf,  for  a  reserve, 
as  we  put  up  mince-meat. 

The  best  season  for  turtles  was  when  the  Matariki, 
the  Pleiades,  rose  in  the  east,  and  the  time  of  egg-lay- 
ing arrived.  Then  the  turtles  came  from  long  journeys 
by  sea,  and  looked  for  a  place  to  deposit  their  eggs  far 
from  the  haunts  of  humans.  They  came  two  by  two, 
like  proper  married  folk,  and,  leaving  the  husband  on 
the  barrier-reef,  the  wife,  alone,  dug  a  hole  from  one  to 
two  feet  in  depth  in  the  coral  sand,  above  the  high- water 
mark,  and  in  it  scooped  a  deeper  and  smaller  pipe,  to 
lay  five  or  six  score  eggs,  white  and  rough,  like  en- 
larged golf -balls.  The  moon  was  usually  full  when  this 
most  important  deed  of  the  turtle's  career  was  done  with 
intense  secrecy.  The  sand  was  painstakingly  replaced 
and  smoothed,  and  the  wife  swam  back  to  the  reef  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  169 

at  high  tide  touched  flippers  again  with  her  patient 
spouse.     The  operation  occupied  less  than  an  hour. 

McHenry,  whom  I  met  every  day  when  I  walked  to 
the  village,  said  that  it  was  the  Southern  Cross  and  not 
the  Pleiades  that  governed  the  dropping  of  the  eggs, 
and  that  the  honu  did  not  approach  the  beach  until  the 
four  stars  forming  the  cross  had  reached  a  position  ex- 
actly perpendicular  to  the  horizon. 

"Those  turtles  are  better  astronomers  than  Lyin' 
Bill,"  said  McHenry.  "They  savvy  the  Southern 
Cross  like  Bill  does  a  Doc  Funk." 

The  turtle  returned  to  her  eggs  on  the  ninth  night, 
but  if  she  saw  evidences  of  enemies  about,  she  left  im- 
mediately, and  waited  another  novendial  period  and,  if 
again  scared,  came  back  on  the  twenty-seventh  evening. 
But  when  that  fatal  night  had  passed  she  surrendered 
to  the  inevitable.  Nohea  knew  the  habits  of  the  honu 
as  well  as  she  did  herself.  He  knew  the  broad  tracks 
she  made,  which  she  tried  in  vain  to  obliterate,  and 
he  often  removed  the  eggs  to  eat  raw,  or  freshly  cooked. 
Nohea  could  swim  to  the  beach  where  the  mother  turtle 
was,  and  land  so  quietly  that  she  would  not  have  notice 
of  his  coming,  and  so  could  not  escape  to  the  lagoon  or 
the  moat;  or  he  could  swim  noiselessly  to  the  reef,  and 
forelay  the  uxorious  male  napping  until  the  arrival  of 
his  consort  from  her  oviposition.  To  rush  upon  either 
male  or  female  and  turn  it  over  on  its  back  was  the  act 
of  a  moment,  if  strength  permitted,  but  Paumotuans 
seldom  hunted  alone  for  turtles,  the  fencing  them  from 
the  water  being  better  achieved  by  two  or  more.  Even 
when  we  saw  one  at  sea,  Nohea  would  spring  from  the 


170  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

canoe  and  fasten  a  hook  about  the  neck  and  front  flipper 
which  rendered  the  honu  as  helpless  as  if  a  human  were 
bound  neck  and  leg.  Once  fast,  the  turtle  was  turned, 
and  then  pulled  to  the  beach.  Nohea  could  attach  such 
a  device  to  a  turtle,  and  without  a  canoe  swim  with  him 
to  the  beach  or  to  a  schooner.  The  turtle  was  put 
under  a  roof  of  cocoanut-leaves,  until  desire  for  his  meat 
brought  death  to  him. 

Nohea  often  picked  up  rori  to  make  soup.  They 
were  to  me  the  most  repulsive  offering  of  the  South 
Seas,  long,  round,  thin  echinoderms,  shaped  like  cu- 
cumbers or  giant  slugs,  and  appalling  in  their  hideous- 
ness.  The  Malays  called  them  trepang,  the  Portuguese 
hicho'do-mar,  or  sea-slug,  and  the  scientists  holothurian. 
Slimy,  disgusting,  crawling  beings,  they  were  like  sau- 
sage-skins or  starved  snakes  six  inches  or  six  feet  long, 
and  stretchable  to  double  that  length.  One  end  had 
a  set  of  waving  tentacles  by  which  they  drew  in  the 
sand  and  coral  animalculse.  They  crept  along  the  bot- 
tom or  swam  slowly. 

There  was  a  small  trade  in  these  dried  trepang,  or 
heche  de  mer,  which  were  shipped  to  Tahiti  and  thence 
to  San  Francisco,  for  transshipment  to  China,  for  pur- 
chase by  Chinese  gourmets.  The  Chinese  usually  put 
them  in  their  gelatinous  soups.  I  had  eaten  them  at 
feasts  in  Canton  and  Chifu.  They  were  considered  a 
powerful  aphrodisiac,  as  swallows'-nests  and  ginseng. 

No  race  so  eagerly  sought  such  love  philters  as  the 
Chinese.  They  had  a  belief  that  certain  parts  and  or- 
gans of  animals  strengthened  the  similar  parts  or  organs 
in  humans.  Our  own  medical  men  often  verged  on  the 
same  theory,  making  elixirs,  as  the  Chinese  had  for 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  171 

countless  centuries.  At  a  Chinese  feast  where  the  heart 
of  a  tiger  was  the  pidce  de  resistance,  I  had  been  assured 
that  a  shce  of  it  would  make  me  brave.  There  may 
have  been  something  in  it,  for  after  eating  I  felt  I  was 
brave  to  have  done  so. 

The  fishing  for  rori  was  sometimes  on  a  considerable 
scale.  McHenry  had  often  taken  a  score  of  Paumotuan 
men  and  women  on  his  schooner  to  one  of  the  unpopu- 
lated atolls.  They  built  huts  ashore  for  themselves, 
and  others  for  curing  the  trepang.  They  searched  for 
them  with  long  grains  or  forks,  going  in  calm  weather 
to  the  outer  edge  of  the  reef  where  they  found  the  red 
rori,  which  ranked  second  in  the  grading  by  the  Chinese, 
but  the  black  they  had  to  dive  for  in  the  lagoon  to  great 
depths.  Some  trepang  had  spicules,  or  prickles,  on  their 
skin,  and  some  were  smooth,  while  others  had  teats  or 
ambulacral  feet,  in  rows ;  and  these,  known  to  the  trade 
as  teat-fish,  and  to  the  Chinese  as  Se-oh-sum,  were 
bonnes  bouckes  to  a  Pekinese  gourmand.  Next  in  or- 
der were  the  red,  the  black,  and  the  lolly.  These  latter 
we  found  in  great  quantities  on  the  reef  at  low  tide  in 
shallow  places.  They  exuded,  when  stepped  on,  a  hor- 
rid red  liquid,  like  blood,  from  all  the  surface  of  their 
body. 

Against  mankind  these  rori  had  no  defense  when 
stabbed  with  the  fork  or  grain,  but  to  touch  one  of  the 
elongated  Blutwursts  with  any  part  of  one's  body  was 
to  rue  one's  temerity.  They  were  like  skins  filled  with 
a  poisonous  fluid,  and  this  they  ejected  with  force,  so 
that  if  contacted  with  a  scratch  or  sore,  or  one's  eye,  it 
set  up  immediate  inflammation,  and  caused  hours  of 
agony.     Many  Paumotuans  had  thus  suffered  serious 


172  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

injury  to  their  eyes.  The  leopard  trepang,  olive-green 
with  orange  spots,  disgorged  sticky  threads  when  mo- 
lested, and  these  clung  fast  to  the  human  skin  and 
raised  painful  blisters.  Nature  had  armed  them  for 
protection.  The  native  never  gathered  the  rori  in  bas- 
kets or  sacks,  but  made  a  box  to  drag  about  on  land 
or  float  on  the  water,  into  which  he  put  them. 

The  pawky  Paumotuan  gave  no  thought  to  the  aph- 
rodisiacal  qualities  of  the  rori,  as  did  the  Chinese.  The 
filling  of  his  belly  or  his  purse  was  his  sole  idea.  The 
trepang  must  be  cooked  as  quickly  as  possible  after  re- 
moval from  the  water  because  it  quickly  dissolved,  like 
a  salted  slug,  into  a  jellied  mass.  If  the  native  had  no 
caldron  in  which  to  boil  the  rori,  he  threw  them  on  red- 
hot  stones,  covered  them  with  leaves,  and  left  them  to 
steam.  In  an  hour  they  were  shriveled  and  rid  of  their 
poisonous  power.  They  were  slit  with  a  sharp  knife 
and  boiled  for  several  hours  in  salt  water  until  the  outer 
skin  was  removed.  Taken  from  the  pot,  they  were 
placed  on  screens  made  of  the  spinal  columns  of  the  co- 
coanut-palm  leaves,  and  underneath  the  screens  was  built 
a  fire  of  cocoanut-husks.  When  thoroughly  dried  and 
smoked,  the  trepang  was  put  in  sacks,  with  great  pre- 
caution against  dampness.  If  not  shipped  at  once  they 
were  from  time  to  time  dried  in  the  sun,  because  the 
presence  of  any  moisture  prejudiced  them  to  the  palates 
of  the  Chinese  epicures.  In  China  they  sold  for  a  high 
price,  having  the  place  in  their  cuisine  that  rare  caviar 
might  have  in  ours. 

Nohea  and  I  essayed  every  kind  of  fishing  afforded 
by  the  atoll.  We  often  went  out  at  midnight,  accord- 
ing to  the  moon,  and  speared  swordfish  by  the  light  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  173 

torches,  and  I  also  caught  these  warriors  of  the  sea 
on  hook  and  line.  We  hooked  sharks  and  many 
sorts  of  fish,  and  had  many  strange  and  stirring 
adventures. 

For  rousing  hatred  and  fear,  neither  the  devilfish, 
with  his  frightful  tentacles  and  demoniacal  body  and 
eyes,  nor  the  swordfish,  which  could  hurl  his  hundred  or 
thousand  pounds  against  the  body  or  craft  of  the  fisher- 
men, were  peers  of  the  mania  birostris^  the  gigantic  ray, 
called  the  "winged  devil  of  the  deep  passes,"  which  was 
seen  only  in  the  depths  between  the  atolls,  and  which 
was  never  fished  for  because  worthless  to  commerce  or 
as  food. 

Nohea,  Kopcke,  and  I  were  out  one  day  in  a  cutter. 
This  was  a  sailing  craft  of  about  ten  tons,  which  was 
used  to  pick  up  copra  at  points  away  from  villages  and 
to  bring  it  to  the  village  or  to  the  waiting  schooner.  It 
was  about  noon.  We  had  hooked  a  dozen  honito,  and 
were  having  luncheon  when  a  sailor  shouted  to  us  to 
look  at  a  sight  near-by.  We  saw  a  number  of  the  larg- 
est manias  any  of  us  had  ever  seen.  A  dozen  of  these 
mammoth  rays  were  swimming  round  and  round,  in 
circles  not  more  than  a  hundred  feet  in  diameter.  They 
were  about  twenty -five  feet  across,  and  twenty  feet  from 
head  to  tip  of  tail,  and  each  one  raised  a  tip  of  an  outer 
fin  two  feet  or  so  above  the  water.  The  fin  toward  the 
center  of  the  circle  was  correspondingly  depressed,  and 
they  appeared  like  a  flock  of  incredible  bats.  Every 
few  -minutes  one  threw  itself  into  the  air  and  turned 
completely  over,  displaying  a  dazzlingly  white  belly. 
Their  long,  whip-like  tails  were  armed  with  dagger 
spines,  double-edged  with  saw-teeth.  Their  mouths  were 


174  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

large  enough  to  swallow  a  man,  and  their  teeth,  as 
they  gleamed,  flat  as  jagged  stones. 

Nohea  said  they  used  these  fins  to  wave  their  prey, 
fish  and  crustaceans,  into  their  maws.  He  expressed 
intense  terror  of  them  and  urged  Kopcke  to  steer  away 
from  them. 

The  manta  had  lifted  the  anchor  of  a  vessel  in  harbor 
by  pushing  against  the  chain,  and  had  towed  the  vessel 
a  considerable  distance.  When  harpooned,  he  had 
dragged  as  many  as  fourteen  catamarans  or  boats  with- 
out apparent  weariness.  Well  might  the  Paumotuan 
in  his  frail  fishing-canoe  dread  the  sea-devil!  He  had 
known  him  rise  beneath  his  pirogue,  and  with  a  blow 
of  his  fearful  fins  shatter  fisherman  and  craft.  Not 
vicious  in  pursuit  of  man  as  the  shark,  or  lithe  and  able 
to  impale  his  victims  as  the  swordfish,  yet  more  terrible 
when  aroused  by  the  impotent  Paumotuan,  the  "winged 
devil  of  the  deep  passes"  stood  for  all  that  was  peril- 
ous and  awesome  among  the  beasts  of  the  ocean.  When 
harpooned  from  a  schooner  large  enough  not  to  be  in 
danger  from  the  manias  strength,  the  Paumotuan  or 
Tahitian  sailor  loved  to  vent  his  hate  upon  the  giant 
ray,  and  he  had  names  for  him  then  that  he  would  not 
dare  to  call  him  from  a  smaller  boat. 


CHAPTER  X 

Traders  and  divers  assembling  for  the  diving — A  story  told  by  Llewellyn 
at  night — The  mystery  of  Easter  Island — Strangest  spot  in  the  world 
— Curious  statues  and  houses — Borrowed  wives — Arrival  of  English 
girl — Tragedy  of  the  Meke  Melee  festival. 

THE  scene  at  Takaroa  was  now  remindful  in  a  di- 
minutive way  of  the  bustle  and  turmoil  before  the 
opening  of  a  camp-meeting  in  the  United  States. 
The  traders  and  pearl-buyers  of  Tahiti  began  to  assem- 
ble, and  divers  and  their  families  of  other  islands  to  ar- 
rive. Soon  the  huddle  had  the  mild  disorder  and  excite- 
ment of  an  old-fashioned  southern  revival.  Chinese,  the 
cunning  Cantonese,  two  generations  in  Tahiti,  set  up 
stands  for  selling  sweetmeats  and  titbits,  and  the  mer- 
chants spread  out  samples  of  their  goods  in  competition 
with  Mapuhi's  and  Hiram  Mervin's  stores.  The  whites 
developed  artful  schemes  for  circumventing  one  another 
in  securing  the  best  divers.  These,  until  contracts  were 
signed,  were  importuned  and  made  much  of  as  desirable 
members  are  solicited  by  college  clubs.  The  narrow 
strand  of  the  atoll  crowded  up  with  new-comers  who 
every  few  days  alighted  from  schooner,  cutter,  and 
canoe.  All  day  the  moat  and  sea  were  alive  with  boats 
unloading  the  belongings  and  merchandise  of  the  visi- 
tors. The  housing  problem  was  settled  by  each  fam- 
ily's or  group's  erecting  for  itself  flimsy  abodes  of 
the  scant  building  material  growing  on  the  isle,  pieced 
out  with  boards  or  bits  of  flattened  tin  cans  or  canvas, 

I7S 


176  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

while  others  contented  themselves  with  lean-tos  or  leafy 
kennels.  All  was  good  nature,  anticipation  of  profits, 
and  hope  of  miraculous  drafts  from  the  lagoon. 

In  the  evenings  on  the  verandas  or  about  the 
bivouacs,  there  was  an  incessant  chatter.  The  bar- 
gaining, the  reuniting  of  former  friends  or  acquaint- 
ances, the  efforts  of  deacons  and  missionaries,  the  sly  ac- 
tions of  the  traders,  the  commencements  of  courtships, 
and  love-making  of  the  free-and-easy  foreigners  filled 
the  balmy  night  air  with  laughter,  whisperings,  and 
conversation.  A  hundred  stories  were  told — jokes,  ad- 
ventures, slanders,  and  curious  happenings.  Religion, 
business,  mirth,  and  obscenity  vied  for  interest. 

Llewellyn,  the  Welsh  Tahitian  vanilla-planter,  with 
Lying  Bill,  McHenry,  Kopcke,  Aaron  Mandel,  and 
others,  formed  a  nightly  circle.  Sitting  on  boxes  or 
reclining  on  mats  under  the  cocoanut-trees,  with  a  lan- 
tern or  two  above  them  and  pipes  aglow,  these  pilgrims 
of  the  deep  recited  moving  tales  of  phenomena  and 
accident,  of  wanderings  and  hardships,  and  small  vil- 
lainies. 

"Sailors  are  damn  fools,"  said  Captain  Nimau,  whom 
I  had  met  in  Lacour's  shed  on  Anaa.  "There  was  a 
ship's  boat  passed  here  some  time  ago.  It  was  from 
the  wrecked  American  schooner  El  Dorado,  and  the 
three  men  in  it  with  eight  others  of  the  crew  had  spent 
months  on  a  lonely  island  and  were  beating  up  for 
Tahiti.  They  did  not  reach  Papeete  for  days  after  I 
sighted  them  from  Lacour's,  yet  they  would  n't  spare 
the  time  to  touch  at  Anaa  where  they  might  have  gotten 
plenty  of  food  and  water,  and  rested  a  day  or  two.     I 


1*3 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  177 

wondered  who  they  were  until  O'Brien  here  told  me.  I 
saw  them  only  through  my  glass." 

"The  skipper  of  the  El  Dorado  who  was  in  the  boat 
wouldn't  let  it  stop,"  said  McHenry.  "He  was 
hurryin'  to  Tahiti  to  find  a  steamer  for  America  to 
report  to  his  owners  an'  to  get  a  new  billet.  I  saw  him 
in  Papeete,  hustlin'  his  bleedin'  boat  and  dunnage  on 
the  steamer  for  'Frisco  after  three  weeks'  wait.  The 
sailors  were  n't  in  no  rush  for  they  know  'd  they  be 
cheated  outa  their  rights,  anyway.  The  squarehead 
capt'in  had  the  goods  on  the  owners  of  the  El  Dorado 
because  they  could  n't  collect  insurance  for  her  with- 
out his  say.  He  scooted  away  from  Easter  Island  in 
that  small  boat  after  four  months  there,  leavin'  all  but 
those  two  bloody  fools  who  came  with  him." 

"He  mentioned  to  me  that  he  was  buying  a  house  on 
the  instalment  plan,  and  would  lose  everything  if  he 
didn't  get  back  to  make  his  payment,"  I  said.  "So 
he  ventured  3,600  miles  in  a  small  boat  to  save  his 
home." 

"Any  one  would  have  enough  of  that  lonely  island 
in  four  months,"  said  Llewellyn,  reminiscently.  His 
deep,  melancholy  voice  came  from  the  shadows  where 
he  sat  on  a  mat.  "I  lived  years  there.  It  is  a  place 
to  go  mad  in.  It  isn't  so  much  that  it  is  the  last  bit 
of  land  between  here  and  South  America,  and  is  bare 
and  dry,  without  trees  or  streams,  and  filled  with  beetles 
that  gnaw  you  in  your  sleep,  but  there  's  something 
terrible  about  it.  It  has  an  air  of  mystery,  of  murder. 
I  have  never  gotten  over  my  life  there.  I  wish  I  had 
never  seen  it,  but  I  still  dream  about  it." 


178  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Llewellyn  was  a  university  man.  He  had  drunk 
as  deeply  of  the  lore  of  books  and  charts  as  he  had  of 
the  products  of  the  stills  of  Scotland  and  the  wine- 
presses of  France.  In  his  library  in  Tahiti,  his  birth- 
place, were  many  rare  brochures,  manuscripts,  and 
private  maps  of  untracked  parts  of  the  Pacific,  and 
keys  to  Polynesian  mazes  impenetrable  by  the  unin- 
structed.  Seventy  years  before,  his  father  had  come 
here,  and  Llewellyn  as  child  and  man  had  I'oamed  wide 
in  his  vessels  in  search  of  secret  places  that  might  yield 
gold  or  power.  He  had  worn  bare  the  emotions  of  his 
heart,  and  frayed  his  nerves  in  the  hunt  for  pleasure 
and  excitement.  Now  in  his  fifties  he  felt  himself 
cheated  by  fate  of  what  he  might  have  been  intellec- 
tually. 

"I  suppose  I  'm  the  only  man  here  who  has  ever  been 
on  Rapa  Nui,"  he  went  on.  "It 's  like  Pitcairn,  far 
off  steam  and  sailing  routes,  and  with  no  cargoes  to 
sell  or  buy.  Only  a  ship  a  year  from  Chile  now,  they 
say,  or  a  boat  from  a  shipwreck  like  the  El  Dorado's. 
But  the  scientific  men  will  always  go  there.  They 
think  Easter,  or  Rapa  Nui,  as  the  natives  call  it  now, 
has  the  solution  of  the  riddle  of  the  Pacific,  of  the  lost 
continent.  You  know  it  had  the  only  written  lan- 
guage in  the  South  Seas,  a  language  the  Easter  Island- 
ers, the  first  whites  found  there,  knew  apparently  little 
of." 

McHenry  interrupted  Llewellyn,  to  set  in  move- 
ment about  the  group  a  bottle  of  rum  and  a  cocoanut- 
shell,  first  himself  quaffing  a  gill  of  the  scorching  mo- 
lasses hquor.  Llewellyn  downed  his  portion  hastily, 
as  if  putting  aside  such  an  appetite  while  engaged  on 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  179 

an  abstruse  subject.  He  knew  that  rum  made  all  equal ; 
and  he  was  an  aristocrat,  and  now  beyond  the  others  in 
thought. 

"Allezr  said  Captain  Nimau.  "I  am  curious.  Dites! 
What  did  you  find  out?" 

Llewellyn's  eyes  smoldering  in  somber-thatched  cells 
lit  a  moment  as  he  returned  to  his  enigmatic  theme. 

"I  was  a  young  man  not  long  from  a  German  uni- 
versity and  travel  in  Europe  when  I  was  sent  to  Easter 
Island,"  he  said,  with  dignity.  "A  commercial  firm  in 
Tahiti,  a  Frenchman  and  a  Scotchman,  had  control  of 
the  island,  which  was  not  under  the  flag  of  any  countr^^ 
and  was  employed  by  them  to  look  after  their  interests. 
The  firm  had  a  schooner  that  sailed  there  now  and  then, 
and  with  me  went  a  young  American.  He  was  a  grad- 
uate of  some  Yankee  college,  and  had  drifted  into  the 
South  Seas  a  few  months  before.  For  some  reason  we 
did  not  know  about,  he  was  eager  to  go  to  Easter  Island. 
He  could  speak  none  of  the  lingos  hereabouts,  and  the 
firm  at  first  refused  him,  but  on  his  insistence,  and  will- 
ingness to  agree  to  stay  two  years  and  to  work  for  a 
trifle,  they  sent  him  with  me. 

"He  was  about  twenty-four,  handsome  and  gay,  but  a 
student.  I  liked  him  from  the  start.  Ralph  Waldo 
Willis  was  his  name,  and  I  was  glad  that  I  had  such  a 
companion  for  there  was  nobody  else  but  natives  to 
talk  to,  except  Timi  Linder,  a  half-Tahitian  who  was 
older  than  us  and  who  was  our  boss.  Our  cockroach 
schooner  was  a  month  in  getting  there.  It 's  more  than 
a  thousand  miles  as  the  tropic  bird  goes,  but  for  us  it 
was  sailing  the  wrong  way  many  days,  making  half- 
circles  or  beating  dead  against  the  wind.     We  were 


180  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

about  ready  to  turn  round  and  sail  back  when  we  caught 
a  breeze  and  made  sight  of  land.  I  hated  it  at  first 
view.  It  was  nothing  like  our  South  Sea  islands,  with 
black,  frowning  cliffs  worn  into  a  thousand  caves  and 
recesses.  The  ocean  broke  angrily  against  the  stern 
basalt,  or  entered  these  huge  pits  and  sprang  out  of 
them  in  welling  masses  of  foam  and  spray.  An  iron- 
bound  coast  that  defied  the  heart,  or  any  sentiment  but 
wonder  and  fear.  Boulders  as  big  as  ships  were  half 
attached  to  the  precipices  or  lay  near-by  to  attest  the 
continuous  devouring  of  the  land  by  the  sea.  Coming 
from  Tahiti,  with  its  beautiful  reefs  and  beaches,  and 
the  clouds  like  wreaths  of  reva-reva,  with  cocoanut- 
palms  and  breadfruit-trees  and  bananas  covering  all 
the  land,  this  Easter  Island  seemed  terribly  bare  and 
forbidding.     There  was  n't  a  flower  on  it." 

Llewellyn  halted  and  lit  his  pipe.  In  the  glow  of 
the  match  his  eyes  had  the  inversion  of  the  relator  who 
is  remote  from  his  audience. 

McHenry,  who  had  been  quiet  a  few  minutes,  must 
call  attention  to  himself. 

"Is  there  any  fightin'  or  women  in  this  yam?"  he 
burst  out,  with  a  guffaw. 

Llewellyn  came  back  to  the  present  in  a  dark  fume. 

"I  '11  chuck  it,"  he  said  irritably.  "You  want  only 
stories  that  stink!" 

Nimau,  the  Frenchman,  took  McHenry's  arm. 

"Nom  d'  une  pipe!"  he  rapped  out.  "Take  that  bot- 
tle, McHenry,  and  throw  it  and  yourself  into  the  lagoon. 
Monsieur  Llewellyn,  please  go  on!  The  night  is  just 
begun.     That  lie  de  P deques  is  a  very  curious  place." 

McHenry,  offended,  jumped  up.     "Go  to  hell,  all 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  181 

of  you!"  he  blurted.  "I  '11  go  and  stir  up  the  Mor- 
mons. If  they  smell  my  breath,  it  '11  make  'em  jeal- 
ous." 

Llewellyn  took  up  his  narration. 

"It 's  a  cursed  place,"  he  assented.  "There  's  been 
nothing  but  death  since  the  white  man  found  out  there 
was  anj^hing  to  steal  there.  They  were  the  healthiest 
people  in  the  world,  but  we  whites  knew  how  to  destroy 
them.  Our  schooner  came  into  the  roadstead  of  Hanga 
Roa  at  daybreak.  I  could  see  the  huge,  dead  volcano, 
Rana  Roraku,  from  the  masthead.  Other  extinct  vol- 
canos  were  all  over  the  rolling  land.  Te  Pito  te  Henua, 
the  old  islanders  called  it;  the  Navel  and  the  Womb. 
That  monster  crater,  Rano  Raraku,  must  have  given 
it  the  latter  name,  for  out  of  it  came  all  those  wonder- 
ful images  of  stone.  The  Navel  was  one  of  many 
rounded,  shallower  craters  all  about.  When  we  landed 
at  sunrise  and  the  slanting  rays  shone  on  them  they  were 
for  all  the  world  like  the  navels  of  giants.  I  fancied 
each  of  them  belonging  to  a  colossus  who  had  turned 
to  stone.  At  first,  the  island  was  just  a  gray  bulk,  the 
surface  in  several  sweeping  curves  dotted  with  mole- 
hills. As  we  climbed  upon  the  cliffs  and  the  details  of 
the  land  grew  in  the  sunlight,  the  impression  was  of 
a  totally  different  part  of  the  globe,  of  a  cut-off  place 
where  scenes  and  people  were  of  an  ancient  sort,  of  a 
mystery  that  stunned  as  thoughts  crowded  in  on  one. 
That  impression  never  left  me.  I  can  feel  it  now  after 
these  years.  The  American,  Willis,  was  fair  overcome. 
He  turned  pale  and  put  his  hand  to  his  stomach  as  if 
sick. 

"  'What 's  the  matter?'  I  asked,  though  I  really  knew. 


182  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

**  'I  feel  like  when  I  was  a  little  boy  and  saw  the  wax- 
works in  New  York,'  he  said.  'AH  the  spirits  of  the 
dead  and  great  seem  to  be  around.  But  I  've  waited 
years  to  come  here.' 

"As  we  walked  from  point  to  point  that  first  day, 
the  spectacle  was  incredible,  absolutely  bewildering. 
The  whole  island  was  a  charnel-house  and  a  relic  shrine. 
It  seemed  to  have  been  furnished  by  a  race  whose  mind 
was  fixed  on  death  instead  of  life,  and  who  worked  for 
remembrance  instead  of  happiness.  Oblivion  was  their 
most  desperate  fear,  or,  at  least,  they  must  have  thought 
that  the  preservation  of  their  bones  and  the  building  of 
images  of  the  dead  were  the  chief  duties  of  the  living. 
At  intervals  all  around  the  coast  were  immense  plat- 
forms or  High  Places  of  slabs  of  stone,  gigantic  stages 
for  tremendous  statues.  These  bases  were  called  ahUj 
and  were  some  three  or  four  hundred  feet  long,  and  on 
them  at  regular  intervals  had  been  mammoth  sculptures. 
Scores  of  these  lay  half  buried  in  the  scrub,  and  some 
were  covered  over  entirely  by  the  growth  of  the  grass. 
Some  were  fifty  or  even  seventy  feet  high  and  others 
three  or  four  feet,  as  if  the  makers  sized  them  by  the 
power  or  fame  of  the  dead  men  they  represented.  They 
were  like  gray  ghosts  of  the  departed. 

"I  can't  quite  tell  you  the  sensation  we  had  at  our 
first  stroll  about.  Our  house  was  at  the  base  of  the 
volcano,  and  Timi  Linder,  who  came  off  to  the  schooner 
in  a  boat  to  meet  us,  took  us  to  it.  He  was  a  cousin 
of  mine — some  of  you  remember  him — and  a  fine  fel- 
low. He  did  n't  make  anything  of  all  those  images  or 
the  tombs.  Sheep  were  his  gods,  and  we  had  twenty 
thousand  of  them  to  take  care  of,  besides  hundreds  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  183 

horses  and  cattle.  Our  house,  Willis's  and  mine,  was 
at  Mataveri,  at  the  base  of  the  crater  Rana  Kao,  and 
Timi's  was  five  miles  away  at  Vaihu.  It  used  to  be  a 
Catholic  mission.  We  were  soon  settled  down  to  a  reg- 
ular routine. 

"We  were  on  horseback  all  day.  Some  of  the  going 
was  so  bad  it  meant  hours  of  barely  walking  the  horses. 
The  lower  part  of  the  island  was  all  broken  sheets  of 
lava,  grown  over  or  about  with  tough  grass,  and  it  was 
worth  your  neck  to  travel  fast  in  it.  On  the  slopes  of 
the  hills  it  was  smoother,  the  ash  from  the  volcanos 
having  been  leveled  more  in  the  thousands  of  years 
since  the  last  eruption.  Another  horrible  thing  about 
living  there  was  that  we  had  to  get  all  our  water  like 
in  these  Paumotus  by  catching  rain  on  our  iron  roof 
into  tanks.  God !  How  I  used  to  long  for  a  drink  out 
of  a  Tahiti  brook !  When  we  were  out  in  the  scrub  and 
noon  came  it  was  salvation  to  find  a  piece  of  shade.  It 
was  not  so  terribly  hot,  because  Easter  is  out  of  the 
tropics,  and,  as  I  say,  the  climate  is  perfectly  health- 
ful, but  the  sun  came  down  like  lightning  on  that  lava 
and  the  hard  grass,  and  the  glare  and  the  heat  combined, 
with  the  fatigue  of  the  riding,  would  lay  us  out.  The 
nights  were  cool,  with  heavy  dews  which  supplied  the 
sheep  with  enough  moisture. 

"Timi  left  us  much  to  ourselves  and  said  that  he 
wanted  us  to  go  about  without  any  duties  and  to  learn 
the  lay  of  the  land.  So  we  did  that.  The  island  was 
about  thirty-four  miles  around,  but  it  took  us  many 
weeks  to  make  the  circuit,  because  we  followed  the  in- 
dentations of  most  of  the  inlets  or  bays,  determined  to 
see  everything  of  the  marvels  before  we  got  down  to 


184  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

work.  Those  were  the  days  we  suffered  from  thirst. 
Except  for  the  lakes  in  the  craters  which  I  '11  tell  you 
about,  the  so-called  puna  or  springs  were  far  apart,  and 
then  only  shoal  excavations  among  the  boulders  into 
which  surface  water  ran  and  had  been  protected  by 
rocky  roofs  from  the  sun  and  animals.  Just  a  few  buck- 
etsful  in  each  at  a  time,  and  rank  it  was.  The  queer 
thing  was  the  natives  drank  but  little  water.  They 
would  be  surprised  every  day  at  our  thirst. 

"We  ascended  the  crater  Rana  Kao  near  our  home. 
It  was  a  quarter  of  a  mile  high,  and  nearly  a  mile  across, 
a  perfect,  unbroken  circle  at  its  edge  except  where  the 
lava  had  cut  through  and  run  down  to  the  sea.  The 
inside  was  magnificent,  like  a  vast  colosseum,  and,  at 
the  bottom,  a  lake  unlike  any  I  had  ever  seen.  Six 
hundred  feet  below  the  rim  it  was,  and  more  than  three 
hundred  feet  deep  by  our  soundings,  and  the  sides  of 
the  volcano  were  like  a  regular  cone.  We  saw  many 
cattle  feeding  or  drinking  in  the  midst  of  lush  vegeta- 
tion, and  on  getting  close  to  the  lake  itself  we  found 
that  they  were  standing  or  walking  on  a  floating  garden. 
So  dense  and  profound  was  this  matting  or  raft  of 
green  and  brown,  in  which  were  bushes  and  even  small 
trees,  that  the  cattle  moved  on  it  without  fear.  Yet 
in  places  we  saw  the  water  rippled  by  the  wind,  and 
at  times  the  cows  or  bulls  drew  back  from  their  paths 
as  if  they  sensed  danger.  The  water  was  foul  with 
vegetable  and  animal  matter,  but  probably  once  this 
lake  had  been  cared  for,  and  its  waters  had  quenched 
the  thirst  of  many  thousands  of  people." 

"Ah!"  said  I,  "Llewellyn,  I  was  going  to  ask  you. 
So  far  you  have  been  on  an  uninhabited  island.     What 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  185 

about  the  people  you  found  there.  I  am  more  inter- 
ested in  them  even  than  in  the  wonderful  images  and 
tombs." 

"  'E  won't  say  too  bloody  much  about  them,"  said 
Lying  Bill,  caustically.     "  'Is  family  killed  off  most  of 
em. 

Again  it  seemed  that  we  would  hear  Llewellyn  to  no 
conclusion.     He  got  on  his  feet,  and  shook  out  his  pipe. 

"A  gentleman  has  no  place  in  the  Paumotus,"  he 
said,  bitterly.  "Mr.  O'Brien,  you  must  not  judge 
South  Sea  traders  by  McHenry  or  Pincher." 

"Judge  and  be  bloomin'  well  damned!"  interrupted 
Lying  Bill.  "I  '11  go  an'  see  where  McHenry  is. 
Maybe  the  bottle  '11  'ave  a  drink  in  it,  an'  you  can  stay 
an'  spin  your  yarn  your  own  way.  I  know  the  bleedin' 
truth." 

Captain  Pincher  retreated,  muttering,  in  the  darkness 
toward  the  sound  of  the  surf  on  the  reef.  The  gentle 
breeze  agitated  the  cocoanuts  above  our  heads,  and 
Kopcke,  a  child  in  mentality  though  a  man,  begged 
Llewellyn  to  keep  on. 

"Pay  no  attention,  please,  to  those  bums!"  said 
Kopcke  in  his  politest  French.  "Now,  me,  I  want  to 
learn  everjrthing." 

Nimau  and  I  apologized  for  humanity,  and  insisted 
that  the  scholar  proceed.  Mollified,  and  with  his  pipe 
refilled,  the  quarter-caste  graduate  of  Leipsic  resumed 
his  account. 

"I  was  going  to  tell  about  the  people,  and  I  '11  begin 
at  the  beginning,"  he  said,  thoughtfully.  "A  Dutch 
ship  discovered  Easter  Island  two  hundred  years  ago, 
and  shot  some  of  the  natives.     Every  succeeding  dis- 


186  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

coverer  did  the  same.  Peruvian  blackbirders  killed  hun- 
dreds and  carried  off  five  thousand  of  them  to  die  in 
the  guano  deposits  of  the  Chincha  Islands  and  the  mines 
of  Peru.  Almost  every  leading  man,  the  king  and  every 
chief,  was  killed  or  captured.  The  prisoners  nearly  all 
died  in  slavery,  and  only  Pakomeo  came  back.  He 
lived  near  us,  and -told  me  all  about  it.  Timi  Martin  be- 
lieved there  were  twenty  thousand  people  on  the  island 
near  the  time  of  the  Peruvian  raid. 

"From  then  on,  with  all  the  livest  men  gone,  the 
people  paid  no  attention  to  any  authority.  There  had 
been  a  hereditary  monarchy  for  ages,  and  while  the 
clans  might  go  to  battle  for  any  reason,  no  one  ever 
touched  the  king  or  his  family.  But  with  Maurata, 
the  king,  kidnapped,  and  most  of  the  head  men,  there 
was  no  boss.  Then  Frere  Eugene,  a  Belgian  priest 
of  Chile,  brought  back  three  youths  who  had  been  taken 
by  the  Peruvians.  One  was  Tepito,  the  heir  of  King 
Maurata,  and  the  priest  thought  maybe  he  could  use 
him  to  convert  the  islanders.  He  had  a  hard  time,  but 
he  did  it.  You  must  say  for  those  old  missionaries  that 
they  stuck  to  their  jobs  though  'hell  popped.  He  had 
fifty  narrow  escapes  from  being  assassinated  by  natives 
who  thought  him  much  like  the  Peruvians,  and  just 
when  he  was  baptizing  the  last  of  the  Rapa  Nuiis,  and 
complete  peace  had  settled  down,  trouble  began  again. 
A  Frenchman  who  was  looking  about  for  a  fortune  ar- 
rived there  and  took  up  his  residence.  He  saw  there 
was  plenty  of  land  not  used  for  growing  yams,  the  only 
crop,  and  so  he  went  into  partnership  with  a  Scotchman 
in  Tahiti  to  grow  sheep,  cattle,  and  horses.     He  gave  a 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  187 

few  yards  of  calico  for  a  mile  of  land,  and  started  his 
ranch  with  the  Scotchman's  animals. 

"The  Frenchman  took  up  with  a  common  woman  who 
had  been  the  wife  of  a  chief  but  who  was  not  of  the  chief 
caste,  and  he  had  her  made  queen.  Queen  Korato  was 
her  name,  and  she  was  a  caution — like  a  society  woman 
and  a  Jezebel,  mixed.  She  bossed  everything  but  her 
husband.  She  started  a  row  between  him  and  Frere 
Eugene,  who  claimed  authority  through  the  church. 
There  being  no  regular  government,  the  priest  said  that, 
through  God  and  the  pope,  he  was  the  ruler.  He  was  a 
strong  man,  and  I  must  say  from  all  accounts  kind  to 
the  natives.  They  started  to  work  and  built  again,  but 
the  feud  between  the  church  and  the  queen  became 
fiercer  and  fiercer,  and  finally  after  personal  combats  be- 
tween leaders,  and  a  few  deaths,  Frere  Eugene  gathered 
all  his  adherents  and,  securing  a  vessel  through  his 
bishop,  transported  them  to  the  Gambier  Islands. 

"Now  the  struggle  commenced  of  getting  the  land 
away  from  the  natives.  Without  any  government,  and 
the  land  of  each  district  owned  in  community  by  each 
clan,  the  queen  and  the  Frenchman  had  to  get  title  by 
cunning  and  force.  They  did  not  succeed  in  that  without 
blood.  Booze  and  guns  and  meat  did  it.  The  remain- 
ing head  men  gave  away  the  land  for  sheep  to  eat,  for 
gin  and  rum  to  drink,  and  for  guns  to  shoot  those  who 
objected  to  having  their  land  taken.  Of  course,  it  was 
really  a  community,  with  no  private  property  inside  the 
clans,  but  the  chiefs  signed  papers  they  could  n't  read, 
and  the  firm  claimed  everything  soon.  It  was  legal  as 
things  go,  as  legal  as  England  taking  New  Zealand  or 


188  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Australia,  or  France  taking  my  Tahiti.  The  people  di- 
vided into  factions,  headed  by  self-appointed  chiefs,  and 
went  to  fighting.  Some  were  driven  into  craters,  and 
some  hid  in  caves.  The  crowd  that  had  the  upper  hand 
chased  the  other  groups.  They  all  began  to  steal  the 
sheep  for  food,  and  the  Frenchman  hired  a  band  to  stop 
the  marauding  and  end  the  war.  Then  the  real  mas- 
sacres began.  Natives  were  so  pressed  they  took  up 
cannibalism  again,  and  without  fire  they  ate  their  meat 
raw.  Ure  Vaeiko  told  me  how  he  warmed  a  slice  of  a 
man's  body  in  his  armpit  to  make  it  better  eating. 

"In  the  end  a  kind  of  peace  was  made  by  the  terrible 
misery  of  all.  But  the  Frenchman  who  had  gotten  the 
land  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy  his  bargain.  They 
caught  him  unawares  when  he  was  on  a  ladder  helping 
to  repair  the  very  house  we  lived  in,  and  which  he  built. 
They  struck  him  down  with  a  club,  and  buried  him 
near-by.  Other  whites  all  but  lost  their  lives  later  when 
they  tried  to  prevent  the  islanders  from  stealing  sheep 
when  hungry.  They  were  besieged  in  our  house,  but 
finally  were  saved  by  the  arrival  of  a  vessel.  Now, 
with  their  potato  plantations  destroyed,  their  houses 
burned,  the  natives  were  done  for.  They  consented  to 
sign  contracts  to  work  in  the  hot  sugar-fields  of  Tahiti. 
Five  hundred  were  removed  there.  I  often  saw  them, 
poor  devils.  They  were  homesick  to  death,  and  they 
never  were  brought  back  as  promised.  They  died  in 
Tahiti,  crying  for  their  own  land. 

"It  was  not  long  after  that  I  went  to  Easter  with  the 
American,  Willis.  Queen  Korato  had  followed  the 
Frenchman  into  the  grave,  and  the  Scotchman  had  be- 
come the  sole  owner  of  the  island.     No  one  disputed 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  189 

him,  and  when  Willis  and  I  took  up  our  residence  in 
the  former  royal  residence  at  Mataveri,  Timi  Linder 
was  the  virtual  king.  The  entire  population  either  lived 
on  small  plantations  which  they  had  to  wall  in  to  keep 
the  cattle  and  sheep  from  eating  their  yams,  or  they 
worked  for  us  looking  after  the  cattle  and  horses,  and 
shearing  the  sheep.  The  fighting  was  over,  for  the  spirit 
of  the  wild  islanders  was  extinct  as  was  almost  all  the 
twenty  thousand  Linder  said  were  there  a  few  years  be- 
fore. The  two  or  three  hundred  left  lived  in  the  ruins  of 
the  ancient  stone  houses,  cairns,  and  platforms,  the 
tombs  of  the  dead  Rapa  Nuiis  for  ages.  The  living  piled 
up  more  stones  or  roofed  in  the  walls  with  slabs  and 
earth,  and  got  along  somehow.  They  had  lost  all  rev- 
erence for  the  past,  and  often  brought  us  the  skulls  of 
their  ancestors  to  trade  for  a  biscuit  or  two  or  a  drink 
of  rum. 

"Willis  and  I  were  young,  and  though  both  of  us  were 
intensely  interested  in  the  mystery  of  the  island,  and  the 
unknown  throngs  who  had  built  the  gigantic  sepulchers 
and  carved  the  monoliths,  we  had  many  dull  hours. 
When  it  rained  or  at  night  we  thought  of  the  outside 
world.  The  howling  of  the  sheep-dogs,  the  moaning 
of  the  wind,  and  the  frightful  pests  of  insects  made  the 
evenings  damnable.  The  fleas  were  by  the  millions,  and 
the  glistening  brown  cockroaches,  two  or  three  inches 
long,  flew  at  our  lights  and  into  our  food,  while  mosqui- 
toes and  hordes  of  flies  preyed  on  us.  We  often  sat 
with  nets  on  our  heads  and  denim  gloves  on,  and  on  our 
cots  we  stuffed  our  ears  with  paper  to  keep  out  snap- 
ping beetles.  Willis  was  wrapped  up  in  trying  to  read 
the  wooden  tablets  Linder  had  collected,  on  which  were 


190  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

rows  and  rows  of  picture  symbols.  First,  he  had  to 
learn  the  Rapa  Nui  language.  There  's  one  way  to  do 
that  in  these  islands.  We  all  know  that,  and  it  was 
easy  there.  They  had  always  had  a  custom  by  which  a 
husband  leased  his  wife  to  another  man  for  a  considera- 
tion. Linder  attended  to  that,  and  sent  over  to  us  two 
girls  to  teach  us  the  lingo.  They  were  beautiful  and 
merry,  being  young,  and  looked  after  our  household. 
Taaroa  was  assigned  to  Willis  and  Tokouo  to  me.  We 
got  along  famously  until  one  day,  after  a  year  or  so,  a 
schooner  arrived  to  take  away  wool,  and  on  it  was  a  white 
girl  and  her  father.     That  changed  everything  for  us." 

In  Llewellyn's  air  and  low,  mournful  voice  there  was 
confession.  In  his  words  there  had  been  anger  at  Cap- 
tain Pincher's  accusation,  but  with  Lying  Bill  and  Mc- 
Henry,  mockers  at  all  decency,  missing  from  the  circle, 
we  others  became  impressed,  I  might  say,  almost  op- 
pressed, by  impending  humiliation.  In  an  assemblage, 
a  public  meeting,  or  a  pentecostal  gathering,  one  with- 
stands the  self  reproach  and  contrition  of  others,  or,  per- 
haps, experiences  keen  pleasure  in  announced  guilt  and 
remorse,  but  among  a  few,  it  hurts.  One's  soul  shrinks 
at  its  own  secrets,  and  there  is  not  the  support  and  excite- 
ment of  the  throng.  We  moved  uneasily,  with  a  strug- 
gling urge  to  call  it  a  night,  but  Llewellyn,  absorbed  in 
his  progress  toward  unveilment,  went  on  without  notic- 
ing our  disquiet. 

"My  God !  What  a  change  for  Willis  and  me!  The 
schooner  was  in  the  offing  one  morning  when  we  got  up. 
We  calculated  that  the  wind  would  not  let  her  anchor 
at  Hanga  Piko,  and  started  out  on  horses  for  Rana 
Itaraku  to  photograph  the  largest  image  we  had  found 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  191 

on  the  island.     You  have  been  in  Egypt,  O'Brien?" 
I  nodded  assent,  and  the  lamp  threw  a  spot  of  light 
on  Llewellyn's  gloomy  face. 

"You  remember  the  biggest  obelisk  in  the  world  is 
still  unfinished  in  the  quarry  at  Syene.  This  one,  too, 
was  still  in  the  rough.  It  lay  in  an  excavation  on  the 
slope  of  the  huge  crater,  not  fully  cut  out  of  the  rocky 
bank,  but  incredibly  big.  We  measured  it  as  quite 
seventy  feet  long.  It  was  as  all  those  images,  a  half- 
length  figure,  the  long,  delicate  hands  almost  meeting 
about  the  body,  the  belly  indrawn — pinched,  and  the 
face  with  no  likeness  to  the  Rapa  Nui  face,  or  to  any 
of  the  Polynesians,  but  harsh  and  archaic,  perhaps  show- 
ing an  Inca  or  other  austere  race,  and  also  the  wretched- 
ness of  their  existence.  Life  must  have  been  dour  for 
them  by  their  looks  and  by  their  working  only  for  the 
dead.  How  they  ever  expected  to  move  this  mass  we 
could  not  understand.  They  had  no  wood,  even,  to 
make  rollers,  as  the  Egyptians  had,  because  their  thickest 
tree  was  the  toromiro,  not  three  inches  in  diameter,  but 
they  had  to  depend  on  slipping  the  monstrous  stones 
down  slopes  and  dragging  them  up  hills  or  on  the  level 
by  ropes  of  native  hemp  and  main  strength.  Hundreds 
or  thousands  of  sculptors  and  pullers  must  have  been  re- 
quired for  the  555  monohths  we  found  carved  or  almost 
finished.  But  they  never  were  of  the  race  the  whites 
saw  there. 

"Before  we  began  the  descent  of  Rana  Rauraku  we 
stopped  a  moment  to  survey  the  scene.  The  sun  was 
setting  over  La  Perouse  Bay,  and  the  side  of  the  crater 
on  which  we  were  was  deepening  in  shadow.  As  we 
went  down  the  hill  the  many  images  reared  themselves 


192  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

as  black  figures  of  terror  and  awe  against  the  scarlet 
light.  Willis  was  in  a  trance.  He  was  a  queer  fellow, 
and  there  was  something  inexplicable  in  his  attachment 
to  those  paradoxes  of  rock  dolls.  He  thought  he  had 
discovered  some  clue  to  the  race  of  men  or  religious  cult 
which  he  believed  once  went  almost  all  over  the  world 
and  built  monuments  or  stonehenges  long  before  metal 
was  known  as  a  tool.  We  rode  across  the  swelling  plain 
past  the  quarry  in  the  Teraai  Hills  where  the  hats  for 
the  images  were  carved  of  the  red  sandstone,  and  we 
stayed  a  minute  to  see  again  a  monster  twelve  feet 
across  and  weighing  many  tons.  It  was  a  proper  head- 
covering  for  the  sculpture  in  the  quarry.  What  had 
caused  the  work  to  stop  all  of  a  sudden?  There  were 
hundreds  of  tools,  stone  adzes  and  hammers,  dropped 
at  a  moment,  statues  near  finished  or  hardly  begun, 
some  half-way  to  the  evident  place  of  fixation,  and  others 
almost  at  them.  What  dreadful  bell  had  sounded  to 
halt  it  all? 

"Talking  about  all  that,  we  came  to  where  we  could 
see  the  Hanga  Piko  landing,  and  our  company  schooner 
anchored  a  little  offshore.  The  captain  and  some  of  the 
crew  were  engaged  in  bringing  supplies  ashore,  and  it 
was  not  until  we  rode  into  the  ground  of  Queen  Korato's 
palace,  our  home,  that  we  saw  there  were  white  strangers 
arrived.  Imagine  the  situation!  When  we  called  to 
Taaroa  and  Tokouo  to  get  a  man  to  care  for  the  horses, 
out  came  a  beautiful  English  girl  in  a  white  frock,  and 
apologized  for  having  entered  the  house  in  our  absence. 
Her  father  joined  her,  and  we  soon  knew  him.  Professor 
Scotten  Dorey,  for  the  greatest  authority  on  Polynesian 
languages,  myths,  and  migrations.     There  he  was,  by 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  193 

the  favor  of  the  Tahiti  owners,  come  to  stay  indefinitely 
and  to  study  the  Rapa  Nui  language.  His  daughter 
was  his  scribe,  she  said,  and  saved  his  eyes  as  much  as 
possible  by  copying  his  notes.  We  were  up  against  it, 
as  O'Brien  would  say.  Our  conveniences  were  scant, — 
the  queen  had  not  been  much  for  linen  or  dishes, — and 
you  know  how  we  fellows  live  even  in  such  nearer  places 
like  Takaroa. 

"Then  there  was  the  matter  of  Taaroa  and  Tokouo; 
borrowed  wives,  recognized  as  the  custom  was.  Willis 
took  one  look  at  Miss  Dorey,  and  went  white  as  when 
he  first  saw  the  sweep  of  Easter  Island.  He  was  as 
sensitive  as  a  child  about  certain  things.  There  we  had 
been  all  alone,  I  used  to  doing  what  I  damn  please,  any- 
how, and  he  without  any  old  havarde  to  chatter,  or  even 
to  see.  I  won't  say,  too,  that  we  had  n't  had  some  drink- 
ing bouts,  nights  when  we  had  scared  away  even  the 
cockroaches  and  the  ear-boring  beetles  with  our  songs, 
and  the  love  dances  of  Taaroa  and  Tokouo.  For  me, 
I  *m  a  gentleman,  and  I  was  a  student  under  Nietzsche 
at  Basel,  but  I  hate  being  interfered  with.  I  've  hved 
too  long  in  the  South  Seas.  But  for  the  American,  a 
young  chap  just  out  of  college,  it  was  like  being  seen 
in  some  rottenness  by  a  member  of  his  family.  You  fel- 
lows may  laugh,  but  that 's  the  way  he  felt.  He  used  to 
talk  about  a  younger  sister  to  me  on  our  voyage  up. 

"We  assured  the  daughter  and  father  we  would  care 
for  them.  There  was  room  enough,  four  or  five  cham- 
bers in  the  place,  and  we  could  improvise  beds  for  them, 
rough  as  they  might  be,  but  the  daily  living,  the  meals 
and  the  evenings,  confronted  us  hatefully.  I  would 
mind  nothing  but  the  being  so  close  to  probably  very 


194  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

particular  people,  the  lack  of  freedom  of  undress,  and 
the  pretense  about  Tokouo,  but  Willis  was  in  a  funk. 
He  wanted  to  go  to  live  with  Timi  Linder,  but  I  knew 
that  he  could  not  endure  that.  Linder  was  island-born 
and  almost  a  native,  insects  were  nothing  to  him,  and 
he  made  no  pretense  of  regular  meals  like  a  white.  Be- 
sides he  was  boss,  and  wanted  to  live  his  own  life.  I  told 
Willis  plainly  he  had  to  make  the  best  of  it  for  a  few 
months.  He  finally  said  he  would  break  off  his  intimacy 
with  Taaroa,  and  I  said  that  that  was  his  lookout. 

"So  we  took  the  Doreys  into  our  menage.  We  gave 
them  two  rooms  together,  and  Willis  and  I  doubled  up. 
Taaroa  and  Tokouo  had  their  mats  in  the  fourth,  and 
the  fifth  was  the  living-  and  dining-room.  The  cook- 
house was  detached.  We  improvised  a  big  table  for 
the  professor  on  which  he  could  spread  his  dictionaries 
and  comparative  lists  of  South  Seas  languages,  and 
there  day  after  day  he  delved  into  the  Te  Pito  te  Henua 
mystery.  Chief  Ure  Vaeiko  and  Pakomeo  were  inter- 
preters of  the  tablets  and  reciters  of  legends,  but,  as  the 
professor  had  not  yet  mastered  the  Rapa  Nui  tongue, 
a  go-between  in  English  was  needed.  For  a  few  days 
Timi  Linder  volunteered  for  this  job,  but  soon  it  was 
the  American  who  was  called  upon.  He  had  made  good 
use  of  his  year  or  so  and  knew  the  dialect  well.  It  is 
only  a  dialect  of  the  Malayo-Polynesian  language,  and 
the  professor  himself  in  three  months  knew  more  of  it 
than  any  of  us  because  he  spoke  six  or  seven  other 
branches  of  it  from  New  Zealand  Maori  to  Tahitian. 

"The  schooner,  after  a  month  of  unloading  supplies 
and  taking  on  wool  and  cattle,  sailed  for  Tahiti,  and 
Timi  Linder  went  with  her,  as  he  had  been  three  years 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  195 

away  from  his  relations.  This  left  me  in  charge,  and 
as  the  principal  settlement  was  at  Vaihu,  the  former 
mission,  I  was  ordered  by  Linder  to  move  there,  and 
WiUis  to  stay  at  Hanga  Piko.  You  can  see  easily  how 
fate  was  shaping  things  for  the  American.  I  took 
Tokouo  with  me,  and,  the  year's  lease  of  Taaroa  expir- 
ing, she  was  demanded  back  by  her  husband.  An 
elderly  Tahitian  couple  replaced  them  as  helpers  in  the 
palace.  As  I  was  five  miles  away,  with  a  poor  road, 
and  had  to  keep  the  accounts  of  births  and  deaths  of 
people  and  animals,  look  after  the  warehouse,  and  be 
a  kind  of  chief  and  doctor,  I  saw  less  and  less  of  the 
Doreys,  and  not  much  more  of  Willis.  He  had  to  run 
his  gang,  attend  to  the  cattle,  the  water-holes,  and  sheep 
that  got  in  distress  in  the  craters  or  caves.  Of  course, 
now  and  then  he  came  over  to  see  me,  or  I  to  see  him 
and  the  English  people, — I  'm  Welsh  myself,  three- 
quarters, — and  I  met  him  often  in  the  scrub. 

"Everything  seemed  going  along  all  right  after  a  few 
months.  The  Doreys  came  in  the  seventh  month  of 
the  Rapa  Nui  year,  Koro,  which  corresponds  to  our 
January,  Timi  Linder  left  in  Tuaharo,  February,  and 
Taaroa  returned  to  her  husband  the  last  of  that  month. 
The  month  is  divided  in  half,  beginning  with  the  new 
moon  and  the  full  moon.  On  the  first  of  the  full  moon 
in  Vaitu-nui,  May,  we  had  a  party  to  visit  the  ahu  of 
Hananakou.  The  professor,  his  daughter,  and  Willis 
joined  me  at  Vaihu  as  it  was  on  the  trail,  and  in  com- 
pany with  several  islanders  we  started.  It  so  happened 
that  Taaroa  was  at  my  house  to  visit  Tokouo,  and  when 
Willis  rode  into  the  inclosure  she  was  the  first  person 
he  saw. 


196  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"  'Kohomai!'  he  said,  which  is  the  usual  greeting.  It 
is  like  'Good  day'  or  'How  do  you  do,'  but  it  actually 
means  'Come  to  me  I'  You  answer,  'Koe!'  which  is 
'Thou  I'  A  dozen  times  a  day  you  might  meet  and  say 
this,  pleasantly  or  automatically,  but  I  heard  Taaroa 
reply  with  astonishing  bitterness,  'Koe  kovau  aita  pai- 
hengaf  'Thou!  I  am  not  a  dog  I'  She  turned  her 
back  on  him  as  Miss  Dorey  followed  in,  and  I  saw  on  his 
face  a  look  of  puzzlement  and  fear.  I  was  struck  for 
the  first  time  by  the  contrasting  beauty  of  the  two  girls, 
Taaroa  the  finest  type  of  Polynesian,  as  fine  as  the  best 
Marquesan,  and  the  white  girl  the  real  tea-tea,  the  blond 
English,  the  pink-white  flesh,  the  violet  eyes  and  rich 
brown  hair.  I  tell  you  I  'd  like  to  have  been  lover  to 
them  both.  Taaroa  looked  intently  at  Miss  Dorey,  who 
spoke  to  her  negligently  though  kindly,  and  the  inci- 
dent was  over.     Anyhow,  for  the  time  being. 

"The  ahu  of  Hananakou  was  a  grim  sight  in  the  moon- 
light. About  eighty  yards  long,  and  but  four  wide, 
it  loomed  on  the  sea-cliff  like  the  fort  at  Gibraltar,  black, 
broken,  and  remindful  of  the  past.  The  front  was  of 
huge  blocks  of  fire-rocks,  all  squared  as  neatly  as  the 
pyramids,  and  carved  in  curious  faces  and  figures  barely 
traceable  in  the  brilliant  night.  Among  these  was  the 
swastika  or  fylfot.  Human  remains  filled  the  inner 
chambers,  and  bones  were  lying  loose  among  the  boul- 
ders. The  professor  took  my  arm — he  was  in  his  sixties 
then — and  led  me  to  where  a  fallen  statue  lay  prone  on 
the  steep  slope  toward  the  sea. 

"  'Agassiz  guessed  it,'  he  said  quietly.  'The  Pacific 
continent  once  extended  due  west  from  South  America 
to  here,  pretty  nearly  from  the  Galapagos  to  the  Pau- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  197 

motus.  The  people  who  built  these  statues  were  the 
same  as  the  Incas  of  Peru.  In  my  room  now  is  a  draw- 
ing made  by  my  daughter  of  the  figures  on  the  rocks  at 
Orongo.  I  have  its  duplicate  on  a  piece  of  pottery  I 
dug  up  in  an  Inca  grave.  There  is  the  swastika  as  in 
ancient  Troy,  India,  and  in  Peru.  The  Maori  legend 
known  from  Samoa  to  New  Zealand  was  correct.  Prob- 
ably it  came  from  Rapa  Nui  people  who  survived  the 
cataclysm  that  lowered  the  continent  under  the  ocean. 

"Instinctively  I  turned  my  head  towards  the  great 
land  of  South  America  now  two  thousand  miles  away, 
and  in  the  moonbeams  I  saw  Willis  clasping  the  English 
girl's  hand.  Her  face  was  close  to  his  and  her  eyes  had 
happy  tears  in  them.  A  jealous  feeling  came  over  me. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  never  made  love  to  a  white 
woman  since  I  left  Europe.  I  'm  satisfied  with  the 
part-native  who  don't  ask  too  much  time  or  money. 
But,  by  God,  I  envied  him  that  night,  and  when  we 
returned  to  Queen  Korato's  palace  I  hated  him  for  his 
luck. 

The  mood  of  Llewellyn  was  growing  more  self -ac- 
cusatory, and  his  voice  less  audible.  Perhaps  Aaron 
Mandel,  an  old  pearl-buyer,  had  heard  him  tell  the  story 
before,  because  he  interrupted  him,  and  said: 

"What  the  devil 's  the  good  of  openin'  old  graves, 
T'yonni?" 

He  said  it,  indulgently,  calling  him  by  his  familiar 
Tahitian  name,  but  Llewellyn  was  set  to  tell  it  all.  I 
felt  again  and  more  certainly  that  it  was  confession,  and 
excused  my  impatient  interest  by  the  need  of  his  mak- 
ing it. 

"Let  him  finish!" 


198  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Llewellyn's  gaze  was  that  of  a  man  relieved  from  im- 
minent prison. 

"It 's  not  my  grave,  Mandel,"  he  said;  "I  could  not 
foresee  the  future.  When  I  got  back  to  Vaihu,  Tokouo 
brought  me  some  rum  and  water,  and  Taaroa  sat  on  the 
mat  with  us.  She  had  questions  in  her  black  eyes,  and 
I  had  to  answer  something  after  what  I  had  heard  her 
say  to  Willis. 

"  'We  went  to  Hananakou,'  I  began. 

"  'He  does  not  need  me  now,'  she  broke  in  angrily. 
'He  has  gotten  all  my  words,  and  gives  them  to  the 
Via  tea-tea  (white  woman) .     He  is  a  tohe-toke,  a  thief!' 

"Remember  that  Miss  Dorey  was  undoubtedly  the 
first  white  female  Taaroa  had  ever  seen,  and  that  jeal- 
ousy among  women  or  men  in  Rapa  Nui  was  unknown. 
They  hated,  like  us,  but  jealousy  they  had  no  word 
for.  And  because  I  was  amazed  at  her  emotion,  I 
said: 

"  *I  saw  them  holioi  (embrace) .' 

"Taaroa  showed  then  the  heat  of  this  new  flame  on 
Easter  Island.  She  gave  a  mocking  laugh,  repeated  it, 
then  choked,  and  burst  into  wailing.  You  could  have 
told  me  that  moment  I  knew  nothing  of  the  Maori,  and 
I  would  not  have  denied  it.  I  was  struck  dumb,  and 
swallowed  my  drink.  And  as  I  poured  another,  and  sat 
there  in  the  old  mission-house  where  Frere  Eugene  had 
gathered  his  flock  years  before,  Taaroa  began  the  love 
song  of  her  race,  written  in  the  picture  symbols  on  the 
wooden  tablet  I  have  in  my  house  in  Tahiti  now.  It 
is  the  Ate-a-renga-hokan  iti  poheraa.  You  know  how 
it  goes.     I  can  hear  Taaroa  now: 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  199 

**Ka  tagi,  Renga-a-manu — hakaopa ; 
Ohiu  runarme  a  ita  metua. 
Ka  ketu  te  nairo  hihi — O  te  hoa! 
Eaha  ton  tiena — e  te  hoa— e! 

"Ta  hi  tiena  ita  have. 
Horoa  ita  have. 
Horoa  moni  e  fahiti; 

Ita  ori  miro; 

Ana  piri  atu ; 

Ana  piri  atu ; 

Ana  tagu  atu." 

Even  a  quarter  of  Maori  blood  with  childhood  spent 
in  Polynesia  lends  a  plaintive  quality  to  the  voice  of  men 
and  women,  and  gives  them  an  abihty  to  sing  their  own 
songs  in  a  powerfully  affecting  manner — ^the  outpour- 
ing of  the  sad,  confused  hearts  of  a  destroyed  people. 
Under  the  cocoanut-trees  of  Takaroa,  the  lamps  all  but 
expiring  by  then,  the  man  who  had  sat  under  Nietzsche 
at  Basel  rendered  the  song  of  Takaroa,  the  primitive 
love  cry  of  the  Rapa  Nuiis,  so  that  I  was  transported 
to  the  Land  of  Womb  and  Navel,  and  saw  as  he  did  the 
lovely  savage  Taaroa  in  her  wretchedness. 

"Auwer  Kopcke  exclaimed.  "She  could  love!" 
"Eiaha  e  ru!  You  shall  see  I"  murmured  Llewellyn, 
forebodingly.  "After  that  I  did  n't  meet  Taaroa  for 
two  months.  She  stopped  visiting  Tokouo,  and  my  girl 
said  she  was  heva,  which  is  wrong  in  the  head.  Tokouo 
could  n't  even  understand  jealousy.  But  I  did,  and 
I  envied  the  American  having  two  women,  the  finest  on 
the  island,  in  love  with  him.     About  a  month  later  I  was 


200  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

at  the  palace  to  have  supper  with  them.  My  word, 
Miss  Dorey  had  straightened  out  things.  There  were 
the  best  mats,  those  the  natives  make  of  bulrushes,  every- 
where. The  table  was  spread  as  fine  as  wax,  and  we  had 
a  leg  of  mutton,  tomatoes,  and  other  fresh  vegetables. 
She  said  they  owed  the  green  things  to  Willis,  who  had 
hunted  the  islands  for  them,  and  found  some  wild  and 
some  cultivated  by  natives  who  had  the  seed  from  war- 
vessels  that  had  come  years  before.  The  professor  had 
out  my  tablets  after  dinner,  and  his  daughter  read  the 
translation  into  English  of  the  song  Taaroa  had  sung. 
She  had  brought  with  her  on  the  schooner  a  tiny  organ 
about  as  big  as  a  trunk,  and  she  had  set  the  ute  to  music, 
as  wild  as  the  wind.     The  words  went  like  this: 

"Who  is  sorrowing?     It  is  Renga-a-manu-hakopa ! 

A  red  branch  descended  from  her  father. 

Open  thine  eyelids,  my  true  love. 

Where  is  your  brother,  my  love? 

At  the  Feast  in  the  Bay  of  Salutation 

We  will  meet  under  the  feathers  of  your  clan. 

She  has  long  been  yearning  after  you. 

Send  your  brother  as  a  mediator  of  love  between  us. 

Your  brother  who  is  now  at  the  house  of  my  father. 

Oh,  where  is  the  messenger  of  love  between  us? 

When  the  feast  of  driftwood  is  commemorated 

There  we  will  meet  in  loving  embrace. 

"She  was  dressed  all  in  white,  with  a  blue  sash,  and 
a  blue  ribbon  in  her  hair,  and  when  she  sang  I  could  see 
her  white  bosom  as  it  rose  and  fell.  She  was  making 
love  to  the  American  right  before  me.  Her  father,  with 
the  tablet  beside  him,  thought  of  nothing  but  the  trans- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  201 

lation,  and  she  had  forgotten  me.  I  could  see  that  this 
was  one  of  many  such  evenings.  Willis  stood  and 
turned  the  leaves  on  which  she  had  written  her  words 
and  air,  and  when  she  sang  the  word  'love'  their  bodies 
seemed  to  draw  each  other.  There  was  a  girl  I  knew 
in  Munich — but  hell !  After  the  tablets  were  put  away, 
we  talked  about  the  yearly  festival  of  the  god  ^leke 
Meke,  which  was  about  the  last  of  the  ancient  days  still 
celebrated.  The  schooner  was  due  back,  and  would  take 
away  the  visitors,  and  they  hoped  that  it  would  not  go 
before  thirty  days  yet,  when  it  would  be  Maro,  the  last 
month  in  the  Rapa  Nui  year,  our  July.  That  was  the 
real  winter  month,  and  then  the  sea-birds  came  by  the 
tens  of  thousands  to  lay  their  eggs.  Mostly  they  pre- 
ferred the  ledges  and  hollows  of  the  cliffs,  but  the  first 
comers  frequented  two  islets  or  points  of  rock  in  the 
sea  just  below  the  crater  Rano  Kao.  Both  Chief  Ure 
Vaeiko  and  the  old  Pakomeo  said  that  always  there  had 
been  a  ceremony  to  the  god  Meke  Meke  at  that  time. 
We  had  witnessed  the  one  the  previous  year,  and  could 
tell  the  English  pair  about  it. 

"All  the  strong  men  of  the  island,  young  and  old, 
met  at  Orongo  after  the  birds  were  seen  to  have  re- 
turned, and  raced  by  land  and  water  to  the  rocks,  Motu 
Iti  and  Motu  Nui,  to  seize  an  egg.  The  one  who  came 
back  to  the  king  and  crowd  at  Orongo  was  highly  hon- 
ored. The  great  spirit  of  the  sea,  Meke  Meke,  was  sup- 
posed to  have  picked  him  out  for  regard,  and  all  the  year 
he  was  well  fed  and  looked  after  by  those  who  wanted 
the  favor  of  the  god.  The  women  especially  were 
drawn  to  him  as  a  hero,  and  a  likely  father  of  strong 
children.     In  times  gone,  said  Ure  Vaeiko,  many  were 


202  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

killed  or  hurt  in  the  scramble  of  thousands,  and  in  the 
fights  for  precedence  that  came  in  the  struggle  to  break 
the  eggs  of  competitors.  Now  one  or  two  might  be 
drowned  or  injured,  but,  with  the  few  left  to  take  part, 
often  no  harm  was  done  anybody. 

"When  I  left  that  night  Willis  walked  a  little  distance 
with  me  as  I  led  my  horse.  He  was  under  stress  and, 
after  fencing  about  a  bit,  said  that  he  would  like  to  go 
away  on  the  schooner.  His  two  years  were  not  com- 
plete, but  he  was  anxious  to  get  back  to  America.  He 
had  gathered  material  for  a  thesis  on  the  tablets  and 
sculptures  of  Rapa  Nui,  with  which  he  believed  he  could 
win  his  doctor's  degree.  That  was  really  what  he  had 
come  for,  he  said.  I  was  sore  because  I  knew  the  truth. 
I  didn't  doubt  about  the  thesis.  That  explained  his 
being  there  at  all,  but  his  wanting  to  go  on  that  next 
vessel  was  too  plain.  I  said  to  him  that  he  was  not  a 
prisoner  or  a  slave,  but  that  I  hoped  he  would  stay,  un- 
less Timi  Linder  was  aboard,  when  it  would  be  all  right, 
as  only  two  white  men  were  needed,  one  at  each  station. 
We  left  it  that  way,  though  he  did  not  say  yes  or  no. 

"Well,  Linder  was  on  the  schooner,  and  she  came  into 
Hanga  Piko  Cove  two  weeks  before  the  Meke  Meke 
feast,  so  that  her  sailing  was  set  for  the  day  after,  and 
Willis  was  told  by  Linder  it  was  all  right  for  him  to 
go.  Linder  had  letters  for  everybody,  and  new  photo- 
graphic films  for  Willis.  I  unloaded  the  vessel,  and 
Willis  rode  over  the  island  with  Linder  to  show  him  the 
changes,  the  increase  of  cattle  and  sheep,  and  pick  out 
certain  cattle  and  horses  the  schooner  was  to  carry  to 
Tahiti.  He  made  dozens  of  pictures  for  his  thesis. 
Meanwhile  the  natives  had  absolutely  quit  all  work  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  203 

moved  in  a  body  from  their  little  plantations  to  the  old 
settlement  at  Orongo  to  prepare  for  the  race.  Orongo 
was  the  queerest  place  in  the  world.  If  Rapa  Nui  was 
strange,  then  Orongo  was  the  innermost  secret  of  it. 
It  was  a  village  of  stone  houses  in  two  rough  rows, 
built  on  the  edge  of  the  volcano  Rana  Kao,  and  facing 
the  sea.  There  were  fifty  houses,  all  pretty  much  alike. 
They  were  built  against  the  terraces  and  rocks  of  the 
crater  slope,  without  design,  but  according  to  the 
ground.  The  doorways  to  the  houses  were  not  two  feet 
wide  or  high,  and  the  rooms,  though  from  a  dozen  to 
forty  feet  long,  never  more  than  five  feet  wide,  and  the 
roofs  not  more  than  that  high.  They  were  built  of  slabs 
of  stone,  and  the  floors  were  the  bare  earth.  The  door- 
posts were  sculptured  and  the  inside  walls  painted,  and 
the  rocks  all  about  marked  with  hieroglyphics  and 
figures.  There  were  lizards,  fishes,  and  turtles,  and  a 
half -human,  mythical  beast  with  claws  for  legs  and  arms, 
but  mostly  the  Meke  Meke,  the  god  which  Professor 
Dorey  had  discovered  the  likeness  of  in  the  Inca  tombs 
in  Peru.  The  old  people  said  that  Orongo  had  never 
been  occupied  except  at  the  time  of  the  feast  of  Meke 
Meke. 

"So  there  they  were,  aU  that  were  left  of  the  once 
many  thousands,  living  again  in  those  damp,  squat 
tombs,  and  cooking  in  the  ovens  by  the  doorways  that 
were  there  before  Judas  hanged  himself.  All  knew 
that  Orongo  was  more  ancient  than  the  platforms  or 
the  images,  and  those  were  built  by  the  same  folk  who 
put  up  the  stonehenges  in  Britain  and  in  the  Tonga 
Islands.  Pakomeo,  who  had  escaped  from  the  slavery 
in  Peru,  was  in  charge  of  the  Meke  Meke  event,  be- 


204  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

cause  Chief  Ure  Vaeiko  was  in  his  eighties.  We  do- 
nated a  number  of  sheep,  and,  with  yams,  bananas,  and 
sugar-cane, — we  grew  a  little  of  these  last  two, — the 
show  was  mostly  of  food.  A  few  went  to  Orongo 
several  days  before  the  bird-eggs  trial,  but  all  slept 
there  the  night  before.  The  moon  was  at  its  biggest, 
and  the  women  danced  on  the  terrace  in  front  of  the 
houses.  Professor  Dorey  and  his  daughter  with  Willis 
were  there  when  Timi  Linder  and  I  arrived  after  sup- 
per. They  had  waited  for  us,  to  begin,  and  the  drums 
were  sounding  as  we  rounded  the  curve  of  the  crater. 

"The  English  girl  was  entranced  by  the  beauty  of  the 
night,  the  weird  outlines  of  the  Orongo  camp,  the  over- 
reaching rise  of  the  volcano,  the  sea  in  the  foreground, 
and  the  kokore  torn,  the  moon  that  shone  so  brightly 
on  that  lone  speck  of  land  thousands  of  miles  from  our 
homes.  I  heard  her  singing  intimately  to  him  an  old 
English  air.  The  schooner  was  to  leave  the  next  day, 
and  her  lover  would  go  with  her. 

"When  we  were  seated  on  mats,  Pakomeo  struck  his 
hands  together,  and  called  out,  'Riva-riva  maitai!* 
Two  women  danced,  both  so  covered  with  mat  garments 
and  wearing  feather  hats  drooping  over  their  heads  that 
I  did  not  know  them.  The  tom-tom  players  chanted 
about  the  Meke  Meke,  and  the  women  moved  about 
the  circle,  spreading  and  closing  their  mats  in  imitation 
perhaps  of  the  Meke  Meke's  actions  in  the  sea  or  air. 
I  was  bored  after  a  few  minutes,  and  watched  Willis 
and  Miss  Dorey.  They  were  in  the  shadow  sitting 
close  to  each  other,  their  hands  clasped,  and  from  his 
sweet  words  to  her  I  learned  her  first  name.     The  father 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  205 

always  said  simply  'daughter/  but  Willis  called  her 
Viola.  It  was  a  good  name  for  her,  it  seemed  to  me, 
for  she  was  grave  and  pathetic  like  the  viola's  notes. 
The  two  women  were  succeeded  by  others,  who  put  in 
pantomine  the  past  of  their  people,  the  building  of  the 
ahu  and  the  images,  the  fishing  and  the  wars,  the  heroic 
feats  of  the  dead,  and  the  vengeance  of  the  gods. 
Christianity  had  not  touched  them  much.  They  still 
believed  in  the  atua,  their  name  for  both  god  and  devil. 
"Now  the  heaps  of  small  fuel  brought  days  before  by 
severe  labor  were  lit,  and  when  the  fires  were  blazing 
low  a  single  dancer  appeared.  She  had  on  a  white  tapa 
cloak,  flowing  and  graceful,  and  in  her  hair  the  plumage 
of  the  makohe,  the  tropic  bird,  the  long  scarlet  feathers 
so  prized  by  natives.  As  she  came  into  the  light  I  saw 
that  she  was  Taaroa.  Her  long  black  hair  was  in  two 
plaits,  and  the  makohe  feathers  were  like  a  coronet. 
She  had  a  dancing  wand  in  each  hand,  the  ao,  light 
and  with  flattened  ends  carved  with  the  heads  of  famous 
female  dancers  of  long  ago.  The  three  drums  began  a 
slow,  monotonous  thump,  and  Taaroa  a  gentle,  sway- 
ing movement,  with  timid  gestures,  and  coquettish 
glances — the  wooing  of  a  maiden  yet  unskilled  in  love. 
The  drums  beat  faster,  and  the  simulated  passion  of 
the  dancer  became  more  ardent.  Her  eyes,  dark- 
brown,  brilliant,  and  liquid,  commenced  to  search  for 
the  wooed  one,  and  roved  around  the  circle.  They  re- 
mained fixed  an  instant  on  the  American  in  startling 
appeal.  I  glanced  and  saw  Miss  Dorey  look  at  him 
surprisedly  and  inquiringly,  and  then  resentfully  at 
Taaroa.     But  she  was  carrying  on  her  pantomine,  and 


206  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

she  ended  it  with  a  burst  of  passion,  the  hula  that  we 
all  know,  though  even  more  attractive  than  Miri's  or 
Mamoe*s  in  Tahiti. 

"I  suppose  Miss  Dorey  had  never  in  her  life  seen  such 
an  expression  of  amour,  and  did  n't  know  that  women 
told  such  things.  Her  face  was  like  the  fire,  and  she 
moved  slightly  away  from  Willis.  But  now  Taaroa 
was  dancing  again,  and  altogether  differently.  She 
stood  in  one  spot,  and  as  the  drums  beat  softly,  raised 
her  arms  as  if  imploring  the  moon,  and  sang  the  mourn- 
ing ute  of  Easter  Island: 

**  *Ka  ihi  uiga — te  ki  ati, — 
Auwe  te  poki,  e — ' 

**The  sail  of  my  daughter, 

Never  before  broken  by  the  force  of  foreign  clans! 
Ever  victorious  in  all  her  fights. 
She  would  not  drink  the  poison  waters  in  the 
cup  of  obsidian  glass. 

"We  all  felt  depressingly  the  sudden  reversal  of 
sentiment,  and,  when  Taaroa  had  finished.  Miss  Dorey 
said  she  would  like  to  leave.  She  shivered.  The  air 
was  a  little  cold,  but  the  Rapa  Nuiis  built  up  their  fires 
and  prepared  to  dance  through  the  night.  We  whites, 
with  Timi  Linder,  went  home  with  a  promise  to  meet  at 
noon  to-morrow  for  the  egg  ceremony.  As  Timi  and  I 
rode  to  Vaihu,  seven  or  eight  miles  it  was,  he  remarked 
that  Taaroa  had  gotten  much  handsomer  while  he  was 
away.  He  asked  if  she  was  still  friendly  with  Willis, 
and  I  explained  things.  Timi  did  n't  make  much  of 
those  troubles,  but  'Anyhow,'  he  said,  'they'll  all  sail 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  207 

away  to-morrow,  and  her  husband  can  lease  her  to  me.'  " 

Llewellyn  hesitated.  His  story  had  been  long.  The 
lamps  were  out. 

"There  isn't  much  more,"  he  said,  apologetically 
though  pleadingly.  "When  the  race  started  at  Orongo, 
we  four,  the  English  people,  Willis,  and  I,  went  to  the 
sea  where  we  could  watch  the  swimming.  Timi  Linder 
stayed  with  Ure  Vaeiko  and  Pakomeo  to  award  the 
prize.  The  runners  came  swarming  down  the  cliff, 
some  taking  paths  around  and  others  trying  to  climb 
straight  down.  They  wore  loin-cloths  only,  and  were 
mad  as  fighters  with  the  excitement.  Some  fell  but  got 
up,  and  away  they  went,  and  some  leaped  into  the  sea 
from  the  bluff  at  forty  or  fifty  feet  high.  The  rocks 
were  about  a  hundred  fathom  off  shore,  and  that  is  a 
short  swim  for  Kanakas.  But  it  was  the  carrying  the 
egg  whole  and  getting  up  the  bluff  again  that  tested 
skill  and  luck.  Well,  it  was  over  in  a  little  while,  and 
when  we  returned  to  Orongo,  Matatoa,  the  husband  of 
Taaroa,  had  been  made  the  choice  of  the  god  Meke 
Meke  for  the  year. 

"As  the  passengers  had  their  goods  already  stowed, 
but  intended  to  go  aboard  the  schooner  before  night- 
fall to  wait  for  a  favoring  wind,  Willis  proposed  that 
we  all  go  back  to  the  beach  and  have  a  last  bath  to- 
gether. Most  of  the  Rapa  Nuiis  went  with  us,  and  the 
victor  and  Taaroa  among  them.  We  all  wore  parens 
and  I  tell  you  those  two  young  people  made  a  magni- 
ficent pair.  That  year  and  a  half  on  Rapa  Nui  had 
done  wonders  for  Willis.  He  was  like  a  wrestler,  and 
Miss  Dojey  in  her  pareu  was  a  picture. 

"Some  one  spoke  of  the  spring  under  the  sea,  and 


208  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

proposed  that  we  all  drink  from  it.  It  was  like  that  one 
at  Nagone.  The  fresh  water  runs  into  the  ocean  about 
ten  feet  under  the  ocean  at  the  bottom  of  the  cliff. 
Willis  shouted  out  that  he  had  never  had  a  drink  under 
the  sea,  and  would  try  it  first.  Nobody,  they  said, 
had  been  down  there  for  years,  but  in  war  time  it  had 
been  a  prized  spot.  Willis  was  a  good  diver,  and  down 
he  went  while  we  watched  from  the  rocks  twenty  feet 
above  on  which  we  climbed.  Now,  to  stay  down  there 
long  enough  to  drink,  some  one  else  had  to  stand  on 
your  shoulders,  and  some  one  else  on  theirs.  Willis 
plunged  in,  and,  of  those  sporting  in  the  water,  Taaroa 
was  first  to  follow  him  down.  Her  husband,  the  win- 
ner, was  the  second,  and  we,  laughing  and  joking  about 
the  American's  heavy  burden,  waited  for  him  to  come 
up  spluttering. 

"You  know  how  long  it  seems.  We  had  no  watches, 
but  after  about  a  minute,  Matatoa  suddenly  tottered 
and  then  dived.  The  water  was  not  very  clear  there 
because  of  the  issuance  of  the  spring,  and  mud  stirred 
up,  and  we  could  not  see  beneath  the  surface.  But  we 
knew  something  unexpected  had  happened,  and  Miss 
Dorey  seized  my  arm. 

"  'For  God's  sake,  go  down  and  help  him,'  she 
shrieked. 

"I  hesitated.  I  did  n't  think  anything  was  wrong, 
but  even  then  I  had  a  feeling  of  not  risking  anything  to 
save  him  if  it  was.  He  had  too  much  already.  Rotten ! 
I  know  it.  But  that 's  my  nature.  I  could  n't  have 
done  any  good.  Matatoa  came  up  and  went  down  again 
and  then  a  half  dozen  dived  to  the  place  where  Willis 
and  Taaroa  were  out  of  sight.     One  came  up  and  yelled 


Old  cocoanut  trees 


From'the  painting  by  Oscar  F.  Schmidt 

The  dark  valley  of  Taaoa 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  209 

that  he  could  not  find  them,  and  then  we  knew  the  worst. 
They  were  gone  by  this  time  more  than  three  minutes. 
Then  I  leaped  in,  too,  but  there  were  so  many  of  us 
we  got  tangled  up  with  one  another  imder  the  water, 
and  as  Matatoa  came  near  me  I  told  every  one  else  to 
move  aside,  and  that  we  two  would  make  the  search. 

"Well,  we  found  that  at  the  spring  a  frightful  sponge 
of  seaweed  and  kelp  had  grown,  and  that  Willis  and 
Taaroa  had  become  fastened  in  it.  We  had  to  take 
down  knives  to  cut  them  out,  and  we  brought  them  up 
together.  She  had  him  clasped  in  her  arms  so  tightly 
we  had  to  tear  them  apart.  They  were  like  dead.  His 
heart  was  not  beating,  but  we  carried  them  up  the  rocky 
path  and  with  as  much  speed  as  possible  to  the  fires 
which  the  natives  still  had  for  cooking.  There  Pako- 
meo  and  Ure  Vaeiko  directed  the  holding  of  them  in  the 
smoke  which,  as  you  know,  does  sometimes  bring  them 
back,  but  they  were  dead  as  Queen  Korato.  We  put 
the  body  of  the  American  on  a  horse  and  took  it  to  the 
palace.  Taaroa  remained  at  Orongo,  and  her  tribe  be- 
gan at  once  preparations  to  bury  her  in  one  of  the  bur- 
rows. Miss  Dorey  was  quiet.  Except  that  one  shriek 
I  did  not  hear  her  cry.  I  went  to  Vaihu  that  night  and 
left  Timi  Linder  with  them.  I  got  drunk,  and  Timi 
said  in  the  morning  that  the  English  girl  stayed  alone 
all  night  with  Willis  in  the  living  room." 

I  had  sat  so  long  listening  to  Llewellyn  that  when, 
with  the  tension  off,  I  tried  to  stand  up,  I  reeled.  He 
sat  with  his  head  bowed.  Captain  Nimau  grasped  my 
arm  to  help  himself  up,  and  said,  "Mais,  mon  Dieu!  that 
was  terrible.  You  buried  the  American  there,  and  the 
Doreys  left  soon." 


210  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"The  next  day,  after  the  burial.  I  remained  two 
years  more,  and,  by  the  great  Atua  of  Rano  Roraku, 
I  was  n't  sober  a  week  at  a  time." 

Kopeke  lit  a  cigarette,  and,  as  we  prepared  to  sepa- 
rate, said  sententiously :  "Mon  vieux,  I  know  women 
and  I  know  the  Kanaka,  and  I  do  not  think  Taaroa 
drowned  the  American  for  love.  She  did  n't  know 
about  the  sea-grass  being  there." 

Llewellyn  did  not  answer.  He  only  said,  vexedly, 
"Well,  for  heaven's  sake,  let 's  get  a  few  drinks  be- 
fore we  go  to  sleep!" 

I  left  them  to  go  to  Nohea's  shack.  On  my  mat  I 
pitied  Llewellyn.  He  had  a  real  or  fancied  contri- 
tion for  his  small  part  in  the  tragedy  of  Rapa  Nui. 
But  my  last  thought  was  of  the  violet  eyes  of  Miss 
Dorey.  Those  months  to  England  must  have  been 
over-long. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Pearl  hunting  in  the  lagoon — Previous  methods  wasteful — Mapuhi  shows 
me  the  wonders  of  the  lagoon — Marvelous  stories  of  sharks — Woman 
who  lost  her  arm — Shark  of  Samoa — Deacon  who  rode  a  shark  a  half 
hour — Eels  are  terrible  menace. 

THE  lagoon  of  Takaroa  Was  to  be  the  scene  of 
intense  activity  and  of  incredible  romance  for 
the  period  of  the  open  season  for  hunting  the 
pearl-oyster.  Eighty  years  or  more  of  this  fishing  had 
been  a  profitable  industry  in  Takaroa,  especially  for 
the  whites  who  owned  or  commanded  the  vessels  trad- 
ing here.  A  handful  of  nails  would  at  one  time  buy 
the  services  of  a  Paumotuan  diver  for  a  day.  Trifles, 
cheap  muskets,  axes,  and  hammers,  were  exchanged 
for  shells  and  pearls,  often  five  dollars  for  five  hundred 
dollars'  worth.  The  Paumotuan  was  robbed  uncon- 
scionably by  cheating  him  of  his  rights  under  contracts, 
by  intimidation,  assault,  and  murder,  by  getting  him 
drunk,  and  the  usual  villairious  methods  of  unregulated 
trade  all  over  the  world.  The  Sons  of  Belial  were 
hereabouts.  They  had  to  haul  down  the  black  flag 
under  compulsion,  but  they  sighed  for  the  good  old 
days,  and  did  not  constitute  themsfelves  honest  guard- 
ians for  the  natives  even  now. 

The  piratical  traders  of  the  early  decades  sailed 
from  atoll  to  atoll,  bartering  for  pearls  and  shells,  or 
engaging  the  Paumotuans  to  dive  for  them,  either  by 
the  month  or  season,  at  a  wage  or  for  a  division  of 

211 


212  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  gains.  For  their  part,  the  traders  supplied  fire- 
arms, salt  meat,  and  biscuit  or  flour,  though  rum  or 
other  alcoholic  drink  was  their  principal  merchandise. 
The  average  native  would  continue  to  sell  his  soul  for 
the  godlike  exaltation  of  the  hours  of  drunkenness, 
and  forget  the  hell  of  the  aftermath.  He  did  sell  his 
body,  for  often  the  diver  found  himself  in  debt  to  the 
traders  at  the  end  of  the  year.  If  so,  he  was  lost,  for 
he  remained  the  virtual  slave  of  the  creditor,  who  gave 
him  still  enough  rum  to  make  him  quiescent,  and  to 
continue  in  debt  till  he  died  from  the  accidents  of  his 
vocation,  or  from  excesses. 

The  lagoons  were  emptied  of  their  shells  in  improvi- 
dent manner,  shells  of  any  size  being  taken,  and  no 
provision  made  for  the  future  nor  for  the  growth  and 
propagation  of  the  oysters.  The  industry  was  the 
usual  fiercely  competitive  struggle  that  marks  a  new 
way  of  becoming  rich  quickly.  The  disorder  and 
wasteful  methods  of  the  early  days  of  gold  digging 
in  California,  and  later  in  Alaska,  matched  the  reck- 
less roguery  and  foolish  mishandling  of  these  rich  pearl- 
fisheries  before  the  French  Government  tardily  ended 
the  reign  of  lawlessness  and  prodigality.  Gambling  be- 
came a  fever,  and  the  white  man  knew  the  cards  better 
than  the  brown.  Driven  by  desire  for  rum  and  for 
more  money  to  hazard,  the  Paumotuan  risked  terrible 
depths  and  killed  himself,  or  ruined  his  health  by  too 
many  descents  in  a  day.  Atoll  and  sea  must  soon 
have  been  deprived  of  people  and  oysters. 

Thirty  years  ago,  the  secretary  of  the  College  de 
France,  summoned  to  Tahiti  to  find  a  remedy,  reported 
that,  if  laws  were  not  made  and  enforced  against  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  218 

conditions  he  found,  the  industry  would  speedily  pass. 
Schooners  of  many  nationalities  frequented  the  atolls. 
Pearls  were  not  rare,  and  magnificent  shells  were  found 
in  many  of  the  eighty  lagoons.  Their  size  surpassed 
all  found  now.  The  continuous  search  had  impover- 
ished the  beds,  which  were  the  result  of  centuries,  and 
had  robbed  them  of  shells  of  age  and  more  perfect 
growth,  as  war  took  the  strongest  and  bravest  men  of 
a  nation,  and  left  the  race  to  be  perpetuated  by  cowards, 
weaklings,  and  the  rich  or  politic  who  evaded  the  front 
of  battle. 

It  took  five  years  to  grow  a  fine  shell.  The  sixth 
year  often  doubled  the  value  in  mother-of-pearl,  and 
the  seventh  year  doubled  it  afgain.  The  Chinese,  in  a 
certain  famous  fishery  off  their  coast,  sought  the  shells 
only  every  ten  or  fifteen  years ;  but  those  yellow  people 
had  the  last  word  in  conservation  of  soil  and  every 
other  source  of  gain,  forced  to  a  sublimated  philosophy 
by  the  demands  of  hundreds  of  millions  of  hungry 
belhes. 

Warned  by  the  Parisian  professor,  the  French  Gov- 
ernment made  strict  regulations  to  prevent  the  extinc- 
tion of  the  pearl-oyster,  and,  incidentally,  of  the  Pau- 
motuan.  For  the  oyster  they  instituted  the  closed 
season  or  rahui,  forbidding  the  taking  of  shells  from 
certain  atolls  except  at  times  stated.  Experts  ex- 
amined the  lagoons,  and  upon  their  recommendations 
a  schedule  of  the  rahui  was  drawn  out,  so  that  while 
diving  might  be  permitted  in  one  lagoon  for  succes- 
sive seasons  it  might  be  prohibited  in  another  over  a 
term  of  years.  This  had  caused  a  peripatetic  school 
of  divers,  who  went  about  the  group  from  open  la- 


214  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

goon  to  open  lagoon,  as  vagrants  follow  projects  of 
railroad  building.  But  the  lagoons  would  never  be 
again  what  they  had  been  in  wealth.  The  denuding 
had  been  too  rapacious.  However,  the  oysters  were 
now  given  time  to  breed,  and  their  food  was  taken 
care  of  to  a  degree,  though  France,  the  most  scien- 
tific of  nations,  with  the  foremost  physicists,  chemists, 
and  physicians,  did  not  send  her  genius  to  her  colo- 
nies. 

To  protect  the  divers  and  their  families,  alcohol  was 
made  contraband.  It  was  unlawful  to  let  a  Paumo- 
tuan  have  intoxicants.  The  scenes  of  riotous  debauch- 
ery once  common  and  which  always  marked  the  diving 
season,  in  the  merciless  pitting  of  pearl-  and  shell- 
buyers  against  one  another,  were  rare,  but  surrepti- 
tious sale  and  donation  of  drink  were  still  going  on. 

Mormonism,  Josephitism,  and  Seventh  Day  Advent- 
ism,  strict  sects  as  to  stimulants,  had  aided  the  law, 
and  the  Lying  Bills  and  McHenrys,  the  Mandels  and 
the  Kopckes,  had  a  white  god  against  them  in  their 
devil-take-the-hindmost  treatment  of  the  natives. 
France  also  confined  the  buying  and  selling  in  the 
Paumotus  to  French  citizens,  so  that  the  non-Gauls 
by  blood  had  been  driven  to  kiss  the  flag  they  con- 
temned.   But  business  excused  all  subterfuges. 

One  day  when  the  diving  term  was  almost  on,  Ma- 
puhi  and  I  were  talking  on  his  veranda  about  the  ven- 
tures of  his  life,  and  especially  of  his  experiences  un- 
der the  sea. 

"Come  I"  he  said,  with  an  indulgent  smile  upon  his 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  215 

flawed  but  noble  face,  "American,  you  and  I  will  go 
upon  the  lagoon,  and  I  will  show  you  what  may  be 
strange  to  you." 

Going  to  the  end  of  his  spit  of  land,  we  entered  a 
canoe,  and,  with  the  chief  paddling  swiftly,  moved 
towards  the  other  side  of  the  lagoon,  away  from  the 
habitations  of  the  Paumotuans.  When  a  hundred 
yards  or  two  offshore,  Mapuhi  shipped  his  paddle  and 
let  the  outrigger  canoe  lie  idly  on  the  water. 

"Look  I"  he  said,  appraisingly,  "See  the  wonders  of 
God  prepared  for  his  children!" 

I  took  the  titea  mata  he  handed  me,  the  four-sided 
wooden  box  with  a  pane  of  ordinary  glass  fixed  in  it, 
about  fifteen  inches  square,  and  notched  for  the  neck 
of  the  observer.  Putting  the  glass  below  the  surface 
and  gazing  through  it,  I  was  in  fairy-land. 

The  floor  of  the  lagoon  was  the  superbest  garden 
ever  seen  by  the  eye  of  man.  A  thousand  forms  of 
life,  fixed  and  moving,  firm  and  waving,  coral  and 
shells,  fish  of  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  of  beauteous, 
of  weird,  and  of  majestic  shape  and  size,  decorated 
and  animated  this  strange  reserve  man  had  invaded 
for  food  and  profit.  The  giant  furbelowed  clams, 
largest  of  all  mollusks,  white,  or  tinged  with  red  and 
saffron  or  brown-yellow,  a  corruscating  glare  of  blue, 
violet,  and  yellow  from  above,  reposed  like  a  bed  of 
dream  tulips  upon  the  shining  parterre. 

The  coral  was  of  an  infinitude  of  shape:  emerald 
one  moment  and  sapphire  the  next,  shot  with  colors 
from  the  sun  and  the  living  and  growing  things  be- 
neath.    Springing  from  the  sea-floor  were  cabbages 


216  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

and  roses,  cauliflower  and  lilies,  ivory  fans  and  scarlet 
vases,  delicate  fluted  columns,  bushes  of  pale  yellow 
coral,  bouquets  of  red  and  green  coral,  shells  of  pink 
and  purple,  masses  of  weeds,  brown  and  black  sponges. 
It  was  a  magic  maze  of  submarine  sculpture,  fret- 
work, and  flowers,  and  through  all  the  interstices  of 
the  coral  weaved  in  and  out  the  brilliant-colored  and 
often  miraculously-molded  fish  and  crustaceans.  There 
were  great  masses  of  dark  or  sulphur-hued  coral  into 
whidi  at  any  alarm  these  creatures  darted  and  from 
which  they  peeped  when  danger  seemed  past.  Snakes, 
blue,  gold,  or  green  bars  on  a  velvet  black-brown,  glided 
in  and  out  of  the  recesses,  or  coiled  themselves  about 
branches. 

Big  and  small  were  these  denizens  of  the  lagoon. 
The  tiny  hermit-crab  in  a  stolen  mollusk-shell  had  on 
his  movable  house  his  much  smaller  paramour,  who, 
also  in  her  appropriated  former  tenement  of  a  dead 
enemy,  would  spend  the  entire  mating  season  thus  wait- 
ing for  his  embrace.  And  now  and  again  as  I  looked 
through  the  crystal  water  I  saw  the  giant  bulks  of 
sharks,  conger-eels,  and  other  huge  fish.  These  I 
pointed  out  to  Mapuhi. 

He  peered  through  the  titea  mata. 

"Er  he  exclaimed.  "For  fifty  years  I  have  fought 
those  demons.  They  will  take  one  of  us  this  rahui 
as  before.  It  may  be  God's  will,  but  I  think  the  devil 
fights  on  the  side  of  the  beasts  below.  I  myself  have 
never  been  touched  by  them  though  I  have  killed  many. 
When  I  think  of  the  many  years  I  entered  the  water 
all  over  these  seas,  and  in  blackest  sin,  I  understand 
more  and  more  what  the  elders  say,  that  God  is  ever 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  217 

watching  over  those  He  intends  to  use  for  His  work. 
I  have  seen  or  known  men  to  lose  parts  of  themselves 
to  the  sharks,  but  to  escape  death.  They  prayed  when 
in  the  very  jaws  of  the  mao,  and  were  heard." 

Mapuhi  blew  out  his  breath  loudly,  as  if  expelling 
an  evil  odor. 

"Tavana,  tell  me  about  some  of  the  bad  deeds  of 
sharks,"  I  said. 

"Aue!  There  are  no  good  ones,"  he  replied.  "In 
Raiatea,  near  Tahiti,  they  were  fishing  at  night  for 
the  ava,  the  fish  something  hke  the  salmon.  They  had 
a  net  five  meters  high,  and,  after  the  people  of  the 
village  had  drawn  the  net  round  so  that  no  fish  could 
escape,  a  number  of  men  dived  from  their  canoes.  You 
know  they  try  to  catch  the  ava  by  the  tail  and  make 
it  swim  for  the  air,  pulling  the  fisherman  with  it.  That 
is  an  arearea  [game] .  The  torches  held  by  the  women 
and  children  and  the  old  people  were  lighting  the  water 
brightly  when  Tamaehu  came  up  with  his  fish.  He 
was  baptized  Tamaehu,  but  his  common  name  was 
Marae.  Just  as  he  brought  the  ava,  or  the  ava  brought 
Tamaehu,  to  his  canoe,  and  the  occupants  were  about 
to  lift  the  ava  into  the  canoe,  a  shark  caught  Tamaehu 
by  the  right  foot.  He  caught  hold  of  the  outrigger 
and  tried  to  shake  it  off.  It  was  not  a  big  shark,  but 
it  was  hungry.  He  shouted,  and  his  companions 
leaned  over  and  drove  a  harpoon  into  the  shark,  which 
let  go  his  foot,  tore  out  the  harpoon,  and  swam  away. 
Poor  Tamaehu  was  hauled  in,  with  his  foot  hanging 
loose,  but  in  Raiatea  the  French  doctor  sewed  it  on 
again.  You  can  see  him  now  limping  about,  but  he 
praises  God  for  being  alive." 


218  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"He  well  may;  and  there  are  many  others  to  join 
with  him?"  I  ventured,  inquisitively. 

"Do  you  know  Piti,  the  woman  of  Raroia,  in  these 
Paumotu  islands?"  he  asked.     "No?     If  you  go  there, 
look  for  her.     You  will  know  her,  for  she  has  but  one 
arm.     Raroia  has   a  large  door  to   its  lagoon.     The 
bigger  the  door  the  bigger  the  sharks  inside.     The  la- 
goons to  which  only  small  boats  can  enter  have  small 
sharks  only.     Piti  was  diving  in  the  lagoon  of  Raroia 
during  the  season.     She  was  bringing  up  shell  from 
fifty  feet  below,  and  had  several  already  in  her  canoe. 
She  dived  again,  and,  after  seizing  one  shell,  started 
to  come  up.     Suddenly  she  saw  a  shark  dart  out  of  a 
coral  bank.     She  became  afraid.     She  did  not  pray. 
She  forgot  even  to  swim  up.     A  man  like  me  would 
not  have  been  afraid.     It  is  the  shark  that  takes  you 
when  you  do  not  see  him  that  is  to  fear.     Piti  did 
nothing,  and  the  mao  took  her  left  arm  into  his  mouth. 
He  closed  his  teeth  and  dragged  off  the  flesh  down 
to  the  elbow  where  he  bit  her  arm  in  two.     You  know 
how  when  a  shark  bites,  after  he  sinks  his  teeth  into 
the  meat,  he  twists  his  mouth,  so  as  to  make  his  teeth 
cut.     That  is  the  way  God  made  him.     This  shark 
twisted  and  stripped  off  Piti's  flesh  as  he  drew  down 
his  teeth.     When  he  bit  off  her  lower  arm  he  swam  off 
to  eat  it,  and  she  rose  to  the  top.     She  put  her  good 
arm  over  the  outrigger,  and  those  other  women  paddled 
to  her  and  pulled  her  into  the  canoe.     The  bone  stuck 
out  six  inches  below  the  flesh  the  shark  had  left.     There 
were  no  doctors,  but  they  put  a  healing  plant  over 
the  arm.     The  wound  would  not  heal,  and  ate  and  ate 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  219 

inside  for  several  years  until  the  upper  arm  fell  off 
at  the  shoulder- joint.     Then  she  got  well." 

"Is  the  shark  himself  never  frightened?  A  human 
being  must  seem  a  very  queer  fish  to  a  shark.  They 
do  not  always  attack,  do  they?"  I  said.  "I  have  swum 
where  they  were,  and  Jack  of  the  Snark,  Monsieur 
London,  told  that  at  Santa  Ana  in  the  Solomon 
Islands,  when  they  were  putting  dynamite  in  the  water 
to  get  a  supply  of  fish,  the  natives  leaped  into  the  water 
and  fought  with  the  sharks  for  the  fish.  He  said  that 
the  sharks  had  learned  to  rush  to  the  spot  whenever  they 
heard  dynamite  exploded.  The  Solomon  people  had 
to  grab  the  stunned  fish  away  from  the  sharks,  and 
one  man  who  started  for  the  surface  with  a  fish  came 
to  the  boat  with  only  half  of  it,  as  a  shark  had  taken 
away  the  head." 

"E!"  answered  Mapuhi,  "Sharks  are  devils,  but  the 
devils  are  not  without  fear,  and  sometimes  they  become 
neneva,  and  do  things  perhaps  they  did  not  think  about. 
At  Marutea  Atoll,  Tau,  a  strong  man,  caught  a  shark 
about  four  feet  long.  They  had  a  feast  on  the  beach, 
and  Tau,  to  show  how  strong  he  was,  picked  up  the 
shark  and  played  with  it  after  it  had  been  on  the  sand 
for  some  minutes.  The  mouth  of  the  mao  was  near 
his  arm,  and  it  opened  and  closed,  and  took  off  the 
flesh  of  the  upper  arm.  He  got  well,  but  he  never 
could  use  that  arm.  Right  here  in  Takaroa,  in  the 
rdhui  of  seven  years  ago,  a  man,  diving  for  shell,  met 
a  shark  on  the  bottom.  He  was  crawling  along  the 
bottom,  looking  for  a  good  shell,  when  the  shark  turned 
a  corner  and  struck  him  square  in  the  mouth.     The 


220  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

shark  was  a  little  one,  not  more  than  three  feet  long, 
but  so  frightened  was  he  that  he  bit  the  man's  two 
cheeks  right  off,  the  cheeks  and  the  lips,  so  that  to-day 
you  see  all  his  teeth  all  the  time.  He  has  become  a 
good  Mormon." 

Mapuhi  laughed.  I  looked  at  him,  and  his  face  was 
filled  with  mirth.  He  was  not  deceived  as  to  the  heart 
of  man.  Devout  he  was,  but  he  had  dealt  too  long 
with  brown  and  white,  and  had  been  too  many  years 
a  sinner — indeed,  one  of  the  vilest,  if  rumor  ran  true 
— not  to  have  drunk  from  the  well-springs  of  the  pas- 
sions. Mapuhi  wore  a  blue  loin-cloth  and  a  white  shirt. 
The  tails  of  the  latter  floated  in  the  soft  breeze,  and 
the  bosom  was  open,  displaying  his  Herculean  chest. 
We  could  see  his  house  in  the  distance  across  the  la- 
goon, and  now  and  then  he  kept  it  in  his  eyes  for  a 
minute.  He  had  gone  far  for  a  man  whose  father  had 
been  a  savage  and  an  eater  of  his  enemies.  The  Mor- 
mon tenets  permit  a  proper  pride  of  possession,  like  the 
Mohammedan  philosophy.  One  can  rejoice  that  God 
has  signaled  one  out  for  holding  in  trust  the  material 
assets  of  life.  The  bankers  of  the  world  have  long 
known  this  about  their  God.  Mapuhi  had  become 
thoughtful,  and,  as  I  was  sure  he  had  other  and  more 
astonishing  facts  about  the  sharks  not  yet  related,  I 
suggested  that  other  archipelagos  were  also  cursed  by 
the  presence  and  rapacity  of  the  mao. 

"In  Samoa,"  said  Mapuhi,  "the  shark  is  not  called 
mao  or  Tnako  as  in  Nuku-Hiva,  but  malie.  There  are 
no  lagoons  in  Samoa,  for  there  are  no  atolls,  but  high 
mountains  and  beaches.  Now  the  malie  is  the  shark 
that  swims  around  the  islands,  but  the  deep-sea  shark, 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  221 

the  one  that  lives  out  of  sight  of  land,  is  the  mdlietua. 
The  Samoans  are  a  wise  people  in  a  rich  country. 
They  are  not  like  us  poor  Paumotuans  with  only  cocoa- 
nuts  and  fish,  but  the  Samoans  have  bananas,  bread- 
fruit, taro,  oranges,  and  cocoanuts  and  fish,  too.  They 
are  a  happy  people.  Of  course,  I  am  a  Paumo'tuan, 
and  I  would  not  live  away  from  here.  Once,  a  woman 
I  had — ^when  I  was  not  a  Mormon — ^wanted  me  to  take 
my  money  and  go  and  live  in  Tahiti,  which  is  gay. 
I  considered  it,  and  even  counted  my  money.  But 
when  I  thought  of  my  home  and  my  people,  I  thrust 
her  out  as  a  bad  woman.  Now  in  Manua  in  Samoa 
was  a  half-caste,  and  his  daughter  was  the  queen  of 
Manua.  The  half-caste's  name  was  Alatua  lunga, 
and  he  was  one  day  fishing  for  bonito  in  the  way  we 
do,  with  a  pearl-shell  hook,  when  one  of  the  four  or 
•Qve  Samoans  with  him  said,  'There  is  a  small  shark. 
Put  on  a  piece  of  bonito,  and  we  will  catch  the  mdlief 
They  did  so,  and  then  they  let  their  canoe  float  while 
they  ate  boiled  taro  and  dried  squid. 

"Then  one  of  the  Samoans  said,  *I  see  a  shark.' 
Others  looked,  and  they  said,  also,  *A  shark  is  rising 
from  the  deep.'  Now  a  deep-water  shark,  as  I  said, 
is  a  mdlietua  and  is  not  to  be  smiled  at.  lunga  said, 
'Get  the  big  hook  and  bait  it!'  Then  the  shark 
rose,  twenty  feet  of  its  body  out  of  the  water,  and  its 
jaws  opened.  They  closed  on  the  outrigger  of  the 
canoe,  and  bit  one  end  clear  off.  lunga  said  again, 
'Get  the  hook!'  He  thought  the  shark  would  take  the 
baited  hook,  and  then  they  could  throw  the  rope  at- 
tached to  the  hook  overboard,  and  the  mdlietua  would  be 
troubled  with  the  rope  at  the  end  of  his  nose  and  would 


222  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

cease  to  attack  them.  They  could  see  the  shark  all 
this  time.  He  was  a  blue  shark  with  a  flat  tail,  and 
was  forty  feet  long  at  least.  Their  canoe  was  just 
half  as  long,  and  they  thought  of  lona  [Jonah].  The 
perofeta  was  swallowed  by  a  shark,  because  a  whale  can 
swallow  only  little  fish.  The  mdlietua  would  not  take 
the  hook,  and,  leaving  the  outrigger,  rammed  the  stern 
of  the  canoe.  The  shock  almost  threw  them  into  the 
water.  All  were  paddling  hard  to  escape,  for  they  knew 
that  this  shark  was  a  real  devil  and  sought  to  destroy 
them.  lunga,  who  was  steering  the  va  aalo,  rose  up  and 
struck  the  shark  many  times  on  his  nose.  This  angered 
him,  but  Tunga  kept  it  up,  as  their  one  chance  of  safety. 
There  is  a  saying  in  Sajnoa,  ^O  le  mdlie  ma  le  tu'tu' 
which  is,  'Each  shark  has  its  pay.'  lunga  and  all  the 
Samoans  were  religious  men,  though  not  Mormons,  and 
they  sang  a  hymn  as  they  paddled  hard.  They  made 
their  peace  with  the  Creator,  who  heard  them.  For  over 
two  miles  the  race  was  run.  The  mdlietua  pursued  the 
va  aalo,  and  lunga  jabbed  him  with  the  big  paddle. 
At  last  they  were  nearly  all  dead  from  weariness,  and 
so  lunga  sheered  the  canoe  abruptly  to  the  right,  in- 
tending to  smash  on  the  reef  as  a  chance  for  their  lives. 
But  just  as  the  va  aalo  swerved,  to  strike  upon  the 
coral  rocks,  they  rested  on  their  paddles,  and  they  saw 
that  the  shark  had  disappeared.  If  that  shark  had 
kept  on  for  another  minute  it  would  have  killed  itself 
on  the  reef." 

"Mapuhi,"  I  verified,  "I,  too,  have  been  to  Manua, 
and  heard  the  story  from  the  kin  of  Alatua  lunga, 
whom  I  knew  as  Arthur  Young,  the  trader.     He  be- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  223 

came  very  pious  after  that,  and  was  a  great  help  to 
the  mitinare." 

The  republican  king  of  the  atolls  may  have  thought 
he  detected  in  my  voice  or  manner  a  raillery  I  did  not 
mean  to  imply,  for  he  inspected  my  countenance  se- 
riously. He  had  long  ago  discovered  that  white  men 
often  speak  with  a  forked  tongue.  But  I  was  sincere, 
because  I  had  never  known  a  joyous,  unfrightened 
person  to  become  suddenly  religious,  while  I  had  wit- 
nessed a  hundred  conversions  from  fear  of  the  devil, 
hunger,  or  the  future.  However,  Mapuhi,  who  was 
an  admirable  story-teller,  with  a  dramatic  manner  and 
a  voice  of  poesy,  had  reserved  his  chef  dfceuvre  for 
the  last. 

"American,"  he  said,  "If  I  were  a  scoffer  or  unbe- 
liever to-day  and  I  met  Huri-Huri  and  he  informed  me 
of  what  God  had  done  for  him,  and  his  neighbors  who 
had  seen  the  thing  itself  brought  their  proof  to  his  words, 
I  would  beUeve  in  God's  goodness.  Have  you  seen 
Huri-Huri  at  Rangiora?  He  lives  at  the  village  of 
Avatoru.  He  has  a  long  beard.  Ah,  you  have  not 
seen  him.  Yes,  very  few  Paumotuans  have  beards, 
but  no  Paumotuan  ever  had  the  experience  of  Huri- 
Huri.  He  was  living  in  his  village  of  Avatoru,  and 
was  forty  years  old.  He  was  a  good  diver  but  get- 
ting old  for  that  work.  It  takes  the  young  to  go  deep 
and  stay  down  long.  As  we  grow  older  that  weight  of 
water  hurts  us.  Huri-Huri  was  lucky.  He  was  get- 
ting many  large  shells,  and  he  felt  sure  he  would  pick 
up  one  with  a  valuable  pearl  in  it.  He  drank  the  rum 
the  white  trader  poisons  my  people  with,  and  he  spent 


224  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

his  money  for  tobacco,  beef,  and  cloth.  He  had  a 
watch  but  it  did  not  go,  and  he  had  some  foolish  things 
the  trader  had  sold  him.  But  here  he  was  forty  years 
old,  and  so  poor  that  he  had  to  go  from  atoll  to  atoll 
wherever  there  was  a  rahui  because  he  wanted  all  these 
foreign  goods. 

"This  time  he  was  diving  in  the  lagoon  of  Rangiroa. 
He  was  all  alone  in  his  canoe,  and  was  in  deep  water. 
He  had  gone  down  several  times,  and  had  in  his  canoe 
four  or  five  pairs  of  shells.  He  looked  again  and  saw 
another  pair,  and  plunged  to  the  bottom.  He  had  the 
shells  in  his  sack  and  was  leaving  the  bank  when  he 
saw  just  above  him  "a  shark  so  big  that,  as  he  said,  it 
could  have  bitten  him  in  half  as  a  man  eats  a  banana. 
The  shark  thrust  down  its  nose  toward  Huri-Huri,  and 
he  took  out  his  shells  and  held  them  against  the  beast. 
He  kept  its  nose  down  for  half  a  minute  but  then  was 
out  of  breath.  He  was  about  to  die,  he  believed,  un- 
less he  could  reach  the  air  without  the  shark  follow- 
ing him.  He  threw  himself  on  the  shark's  back,  and 
put  his  hands  in  the  fish's  gills,  and  so  stopped  or  partly 
stopped  the  shark's  breathing.  The  shark  did  not 
know  what  to  make  of  that,  and  hurried  upward,  headed 
for  the  surface  by  the  diver.  Huri-Huri  was  afraid  to 
let  go  even  there,  because  he  knew  the  mao  would  turn 
on  him  and  tear  him  to  pieces.  But  he  took  several 
long  breaths  in  the  way  a  diver  understands,  and  still 
held  on  and  tore  the  shark's  breathing-places. 

"Now  the  shark  was  angry  and  puzzled,  and  so 
rushed  to  the  bottom  again,  but  with  the  man  on  his 
back.  The  shark  had  not  been  able  to  enjoy  the  air 
at  the  top   because  he  breathes  water   and   not   air. 


^ 


bo 

a 

•5b 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  225 

Huri-Huri  closed  his  gill  openings,  and  piloted  him, 
and  so  he  came  up  again  and  again  descended.  By 
pulling  at  the  gills  the  shark's  head  was  brought  up 
and  he  had  to  rise.  All  this  time  Huri-Huri  was  think- 
ing hard  about  God  and  his  own  evil  life.  He  knew 
that  each  second  might  be  his  last  one  in  life,  and  he 
prayed.  He  thought  of  lona  who  was  saved  out  of 
the  shark's  belly  in  the  sea  where  Christ  was  born,  and 
he  asked  lona  to  aid  him.  And  all  the  while  he  jerked 
at  the  gills,  which  are  the  shark's  lungs.  He  knew 
that  the  shark  was  dying  all  the  time,  but  the  question 
was  how  long  could  the  shark  himself  hold  out,  and 
which  would  weaken  first.  Up  and  down  they  went 
for  half  an  hour,  the  shark's  blood  pouring  out  over 
Huri-Huri's  hands  as  he  minute  after  minute  tore  at  the 
gills.  Now  he  could  direct  the  shark  any  way,  and  often 
he  guided  him  toward  the  beach  of  the  lagoon.  The 
shark  would  swim  toward  it  but  when  he  felt  the  shal- 
low water  would  turn.  But  after  many  minutes  the 
shark  had  to  stay  on  top  altogether,  because  he  was  too 
far  gone  to  dive,  and  finally  Huri-Huri  steered  him 
right  upon  the  sand.  Huri-Huri  fell  off  the  mao  and 
crawled  up  further,  out  of  reach  of  him. 

"When  the  people  on  shore  who  had  watched  the 
strange  fight  between  the  mao  and  the  man  came  to 
them  both,  the  fish  could  barely  move  his  tail,  and  Huri- 
Huri  was  hke  dead.  Every  bit  of  skin  was  rubbed  off 
his  chest,  legs,  and  arms,  and  he  was  bleeding  from  doz- 
ens of  places.  The  shark's  body  is  as  rough  as  a  file. 
When  Huri-Huri  opened  his  eyes  on  his  mat  in  his 
house,  and  looked  about  and  heard  his  wife  speak  to 
him,  and  heard  his  friends  about  say  that  he  was  the 


226  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

bravest  and  strongest  Paumotuan  who  ever  lived,  he 
said:  'My  brothers,  praise  God !  I  called  on  lona,  and 
the  prophet  heard  me,  and  taught  nue  how  to  conquer 
the  devil  that  would  have  killed  me  in  my  sin!'  They 
listened  and  were  astonished.  They  thought  the  first 
thing  Huri-Huri  would  say  would  be,  'Give  me  a  drink 
of  rum  I'  American,  that  man  is  seventy  years  old  now, 
and  for  thirty  years  he  has  preached  about  God  and 
sin.  lona  was  three  days  and  nights  in  the  shark's 
belly,  but  nobody  could  ride  a  shark  for  a  half -hour, 
and  conquer  him,  except  a  Paumotuan  and  a  diver." 

Mapuhi  was  glad  to  be  corroborated  by  Linnaeus  in 
his  opinion  that  a  white  shark  and  not  a  whale  had  been 
the  divine  instrument  in  teaching  the  doubting  Jonah 
to  upbraid  Nineveh  even  at  the  risk  of  his  life.  The 
great  Swedish  naturalist  says: 

Jonam  Prophetum  ut  veteris  Herculem  trinoctem,  in  hujus 
ventriculo,  tridui  spatro  baesisse,  verisimile  est. 

Also,  Mapuhi  was  deeply  interested  by  my  telling 
him  that  at  Marseilles  a  shark  was  caught  in  which  was 
a  man  in  complete  armor.  He  had  me  describe  a  suit 
of  armor  as  I  had  seen  it  in  the  notable  collection  in 
Madrid.  He  was  struck  by  its  resemblance  to  the 
modern  diver's  suit. 

"In  the  Paumotus,"  he  said,  "the  French  Govepn- 
ment  forbids  the  use  of  the  scaphandre  because  it 
cheated  the  native  of  his  birthright.  The  merchants,  the 
rich  men  of  Tahiti,  could  buy  and  use  such  diving  ma- 
chinery, but  the  Paumotuan  could  not.  The  natives 
asked  the  French  government  to  send  away  the  scaph- 
andre, and  to  permit  the  searching  for  shells  by  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  227 

human  being  only.  I  had  one  of  the  machines.  I 
could  go  deeper  in  it  than  any  diver  in  the  world,  so 
the  merchants  said.  I  would  go  out  in  my  cutter  with 
my  men  and  the  scaphandre.  I  did  not  put  on  the 
whole  suit,  but  only  the  rubber  jacket,  on  the  brass 
collar  of  which  the  helmet  was  screwed.  I  fixed  this 
jacket  tightly  around  my  waist  so  that  no  water  could 
enter,  and  fastened  it  about  my  wrists.  Then,  with 
my  legs  uncovered,  I  jumped  into  the  lagoon.  I  had 
big  pieces  of  lead  on  my  back  and  breast  so  as  not  to 
be  overturned  by  the  weight  of  the  helmet,  and  an 
air-hose  from  the  helmet  to  the  pump  in  the  cutter. 
I  would  work  three  hours  at  a  time,  but  had  to  come 
up  many  times  for  relief  from  the  pressure. 

"One  day  I  was  in  this  suit  at  the  bottom  of  the 
lagoon  of  Hikueru.  I  had  filled  my  net  with  shells, 
and  had  signaled  for  it  to  be  hauled  up.  I  was  ex- 
amining a  ledge  of  shells  when  I  felt  something  touch 
my  helmet.  It  was  a  sea-snake  about  ten  feet  long 
and  of  bright  color.  It  had  a  long,  thin  neck,  and  it 
was  poisonous.  I  snatched  my  knife  from  my  belt, 
and  before  the  snake  could  bite  me  I  drove  the  knife 
into  it.  It  was  attacking  the  glass  of  my  helmet,  and 
not  my  legs,  fortunately.  That  snake  has  its  enemy, 
too,  for  when  it  lies  on  the  surface  to  enjoy  the  sun 
the  sea-eagle  falls  hke  a  thunderbolt  from  the  sky, 
seizes  it  by  the  back  of  the  head,  and  flies  away  with  it. 

"Another  time  when  I  was  in  the  suit,  a  puM,  a  very 
big  eel,  wrapped  itself  about  me.  I  had  a  narrow  es- 
cape but  I  killed  it  with  my  knife.  In  the  olden  days 
in  Hikueru  I  would  have  perished,  for  that  puhi  eel, 
the  conger-eel,  was  taboo,  sacred  as  a  god,  here  and 


228  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

in  many  islands.  To  eat  that  eel  or  harm  him  was 
to  break  the  taboo.  More  than  eighty  people  of 
Fakaofa  were  driven  from  that  island  for  eating  the 
puM,  and  they  drifted  for  weeks  before  they  reached 
Samoa.  The  vaaroa,  the  long-mouthed  eel,  is  danger- 
ous to  the  diver.  It  is  eight  feet  long,  and  Amaru,  of 
Fakarava  had  the  calf  of  his  leg  bitten  off  by  one." 

A  week  I  could  have  listened  to  Mapuhi.  I  was 
back  in  my  childhood  with  Jules  Verne,  Ballantyne, 
and  Oliver  Optic.  Actual  and  terrifying  as  were  the 
harrowing  incidents  of  the  diving  related  by  the  giant, 
they  found  constant  comparison  in  my  mind  with  the 
deeds  of  my  boyish  heroes.  After  all,  these  Paumo- 
tuans  were  children — simple,  honest,  happy  children. 
The  fate  that  had  denied  them  the  necessaries  of  our 
environment,  or  even  the  delicious  foods  and  natural 
pleasures  of  the  high  islands,  Tahiti  and  the  Marquesas, 
had  endowed  them  with  health,  satisfaction  with  a  rigid 
fare,  and  an  incomparable  ability  to  meet  the  hard- 
ships of  their  life  and  the  blows  of  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstance with  fortitude  and  persistent  optimism. 
They  had  no  education  and  were  happier  for  the  lack 
of  it.  The  white  man  had  impressed  their  instincts  and 
habits  but  shallowly.  Even  their  very  austerity  of 
surroundings  had  kept  them  freer  than  the  Tahitians 
from  the  poisonous  gifts  and  suicidal  customs  of  the 
foreigner.  Their  God  was  near  and  dear  to  them,  and 
a  mighty  fortress  in  time  of  trouble. 

While  Mapuhi  talked  the  canoe  had  returned  with  the 
currents  nearer  to  his  house,  from  which  we  had  em- 
barked. It  was  conspicuous  over  all  the  other  homes 
on  the  motu,  though  it  was  a  very  ordinary  wooden 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  229 

structure  of  five  or  six  rooms.  It  was  not  a  fit  frame 
for  Mapuhi,  I  thought.  This  son  of  the  sea  and  lagoon 
was  suited  better  to  a  canoe,  a  cutter,  or  the  deck  of  a 
schooner.  He  had  a  companionship  with  this  warm  salt 
water,  with  the  fish  in  it,  and  the  winds  that  blew 
over  it,  exceeding  that  of  any  other  man.  He  drove 
the  canoe  on  the  sand,  and  we  stepped  ashore.  I  lin- 
gered by  the  water  as  he  walked  on  to  his  store.  In  his 
white,  fluttering  shirt,  and  his  blue  pareu,  bare-legged 
and  bareheaded,  there  was  a  natural  distinction  and 
atmosphere  of  dignity  about  him  that  was  grandeur. 
Kingship  must  have  originated  in  the  force  and  bearing 
of  such  men,  shepherds  or  sea-rovers. 


CHAPTER  XII 

History  of  the  pearl  hunger — Noted  jewels  of  past — I  go  with  Nohea  to 
the  diving — Beautiful  floor  of  the  lagoon — Nohea  dives  many  times — 
Escapes  shark  narrowly — Descends  148  feet — No  pearls  reward  us — 
Mandel  tells  of  culture  pearls. 

MUCH  of  the  mystery  and  myth  of  these 
burning  atolls  was  concerned  with  the  quest 
of  pearls.  In  all  the  world  those  gems  had 
been  a  subject  of  romance,  and  legend  had  draped  their 
search  with  a  myriad  marvels.  Poets  and  fictionists 
in  many  tongues  had  embroidered  their  gossamer  fabric 
with  these  exquisite  lures,  the  ornament  of  beauty,  the 
treasures  of  queen  and  odalisque,  mondaine  and  dancer, 
image  and  shrine,  since  humans  began  to  adorn  them- 
selves with  more  delicate  things  than  the  skins  and  teeth 
of  animals.  A  thousand  crimes  had  their  seed  in  greed 
for  the  possession  of  these  sensuous  sarcophagi  of  dead 
worms.  A  million  men  had  labored,  fought,  and  died 
to  hang  them  about  the  velvet  throats  of  the  mistresses 
of  the  powerful.  Hundreds  of  thousands  had  perished 
to  fetch  them  from  the  depths  of  the  sea.  History  and 
novel  were  filled  with  the  struggle  of  princes  and  Cy- 
prians, merchants,  adventurers,  and  thieves  for  ropes 
of  pearls  or  single  specimens  of  rarity.  Krishna  dis- 
covered pearls  in  the  ocean  and  presented  them  to  his 
goddess  daughter.  The  Ethiopians  all  but  worshiped 
them,  and  the  Persians  believed  them  rain-drops  that 
had  entered  the  shells  while  the  oysters  sunned  them- 
selves on  the  beach.     Two  thousand  years  before  our 

230 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  231 

era,  a  millennium  before  Rome  was  even  mud,  the 
records  of  the  Middle  Kingdom  enumerated  pearls 
as  proper  payments  for  taxes.  When  Alexander  the 
Great  was  conquering,  the  Chinese  inventoried  them 
as  products  of  their  country.  The  "Url-Ja,"  a 
Chinese  dictionary  of  that  date,  says  "they  are  very 
precious." 

Solomon's  pearls  came  from  the  Persian  Gulf,  India, 
and  Ceylon,  and  the  queen  of  Sheba's  too.  Rivers  of 
Britain  gave  the  author  of  the  "Commentaries"  pearls 
to  dedicate  to  Venus  Genetrix,  and  to  present  to  that 
lovely  assassin  who  melted  two,  costing  ten  million 
sesterces,  for  a  love  philter,  and  seduced  two  Caesars. 
Who  can  forget  the  salad  Philip  II  of  Spain,  the  uxori- 
ous inquisitor,  set  upon  the  royal  table  for  his  wife, 
Elizabeth  of  Valois,  the  leaves  of  which  were  of 
emeralds,  the  vinegar  of  rubies,  the  oil  of  topazes,  and 
the  salt  of  pearls?  What  more  appetizing  dish  for 
a  royal  bride?  The  Orientals  make  medicine  of  them 
to-day,  and  I  myself  have  seen  a  sultan  burn  pearls  to 
make  lime  for  chewing  with  the  betel-nut. 

The  New  World  offered  fresh  preserves  to  pearl- 
hunters  ;  primeval  grounds  drew  a  horde  of  lusty  blades 
to  harry  the  red  men's  treasure-house.  South  and  Cen- 
tral America  fed  the  pearl  hunger  that  grew  with  the 
more  even  distribution  of  wealth  through  commerce, 
and  the  rise  of  stout  merchants  on  the  Continent  and  the 
British  Islands.  The  Spanish  king  who  gave  his  name 
to  the  Philippines  got  from  Venezuela  a  pearl  that 
balanced  an  eighth  of  a  pound.  I  saw  it  in  Madrid. 
These  Paumotus  and  Australasia  were  the  last  to  an- 
swer yes  to  man's  ceaseless  demand  that  the  earth  and 


232  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  waters  thereof  yield  him  more  than  bread  for  the 
sweat  of  his  brow.  On  many  maps  these  atolls  are  yet 
inscribed  as  the  Pearl  Islands.  About  their  glorious 
lagoons  was  a  mist  of  obscurity  and  of  wonder  for 
centuries.  Besides  dangers  to  vessels,  the  cannibalism 
of  savages,  the  lack  of  any  food  except  cocoanuts  and 
fish,  and  stories  of  strange  happenings,  there  were  ac- 
counts of  divers  who  sank  deeper  in  the  sea  than  science 
said  was  possible,  and  of  priceless  pearls  plundered  or 
bought  for  a  drinking-song. 

Custom-houses  and  organized  commerce  had  rung 
down  the  curtain  on  the  extravaganza  of  the  past,  but 
the  romance  of  man  wrestling  with  the  forces  of  nature 
in  the  element  from  which  he  originally  came,  now  so 
deadly  to  him,  was  yet  a  supreme  attraction.  The  day 
of  the  opening  of  the  rahui  came  none  too  soon  for  me. 
Nohea,  my  host,  was  to  dive,  and  we  had  arranged  that 
I  was  to  be  in  his  canoe.  I  was  assured  by  Mapuhi, 
and  by  Captain  Nimau  and  Kopcke,  that  despite  the 
fact  that  his  youth  was  gone,  Nohea  was  the  best  diver 
in  Takaroa,  and  especially  the  shrewdest  judge  of  the 
worth  of  a  piece  of  diving  ground. 

All  the  village  went  to  the  scene  of  the  diving  in  a 
fleet  of  cutters  and  canoes,  sailing  or  paddling  accord- 
ing to  the  goal  and  craft.  Nohea  and  I  had  a  largish 
canoe,  which,  though  with  a  small  sail  woven  of  pan- 
danus  straw,  could  easily  be  paddled  by  us.  He  had 
staked  out  a  spot  upon  the  lagoon  that  had  no  recogniz- 
able bearings  for  me,  but  which  he  had  long  ago  selected 
as  his  arena  of  action.  He  identified  it  by  its  distance 
from  certain  points,  and  its  association  with  the  sun's 
position  at  a  fixed  hour. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  233 

We  had  risen  before  dawn  to  attend  the  Mormon 
church  service  initiating  the  rahui.  The  rude  coral 
temple  was  crowded  when  the  young  elders  from  Utah 
began  the  service.  Mapuhi,  Nohea,  and  leaders  of  the 
village  sat  on  the  forward  benches.  The  prayer  of 
elder  Overton  was  for  the  physical  safety  of  the  elected 
in  the  pursuit  they  were  about  to  engage  in. 

"Thou  knowest,  O  God,"  he  supplicated,  "that  in 
the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death." 

"E!  E!  Parau  maur  echoed  the  old  divers,  which 
is,  "Yea,  Verily!" 

"These,  thy  children,  O  God,  are  about  to  go  under 
the  sea,  but  not  like  the  Chosen  People  in  Israel,  for 
whom  the  waters  divided  and  let  them  go  dry-shod. 
But  grant,  O  God,  who  didst  send  an  angel  to  Joseph 
Smith  to  show  him  the  path  to  Thee  through  the  Book 
of  Mormon,  who  didst  lead  thy  new  Chosen  People 
through  the  deserts  and  over  the  mountains,  among  wild 
beasts  and  the  savages  who  knew  Thee  not,  to  Thy 
capital  on  earth.  Salt  Lake  City,  that  thy  loving  wor- 
shipers here  assembled  shall  come  safely  through  this 
day,  and  that  Thy  sustaining  hand  shall  support  them 
in  those  dark  places  where  other  wild  beasts  lie  in  wait 
for  them  1" 

"Parau  maur  said  all,  and  the  eyes  of  some  of  the 
women  were  wet,  for  they  thought  of  sons  and  lovers, 
fathers  and  brothers,  mothers  and  sisters,  who  had  gone 
out  upon  the  lagoon,  and  who  had  died  there  among  the 
coral  rocks,  or  of  whom  only  pieces  had  been  brought 
back.  They  sang  a  song  of  parting,  and  of  commend- 
ing their  bodies  to  the  Master  of  the  universe,  and  then 
with  many  greetings  and  hearty  laughter  and  a  hun- 


234  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

dred  jests  about  expected  good  fortune,  we  parted  to 
put  the  final  touches  on  the  equipment  for  la  peche  des 
huitres  nacrieres.  Forgetting  the  quarter  of  an  hour 
of  serious  prayer  and  song  in  the  temple,  the  natives 
were  now  bubbling  with  eagerness  for  the  hunt.  Mapuhi 
himself  was  like  a  child  on  the  first  day  of  vacation. 
These  Paumotuans  had  an  almost  perfect  community 
spirit,  for,  while  a  man  like  Mapuhi  became  rich,  actu- 
ally he  made  and  conserved  what  the  duller  natives 
would  have  failed  to  create  from  the  resources  about 
them,  or  to  save  from  the  clutches  of  the  acquisitive 
white,  and  he  was  ready  to  share  with  his  fellows  at 
any  time.  He,  as  all  other  chiefs,  was  the  choice  of  the 
men  of  the  atoll  at  a  quadrennial  election,  and  held 
office  and  power  by  their  sufferance  and  his  own  merits. 
None  might  go  hungry  or  unhoused  when  others  had 
plenty.  Civilization  had  not  yet  inflicted  on  them  its 
worst  concomitants.     They  were  too  near  to  nature. 

After  a  light  breakfast  of  bread  and  savory  fried 
fish,  to  which  I  added  jam  and  coffee  for  myself,  Nohea 
and  I  pushed  off  for  our  wonder-fishing.  In  the  canoe 
we  had,  besides  paddles,  two  titea  mata,  the  glass-bot- 
tomed boxes  for  seeing  under  the  surface  of  the  water, 
a  long  rope,  an  iron-hooped  net,  a  smaller  net  or  bag 
of  coir,  twenty  inches  deep  and  a  foot  across,  with  three- 
inch  meshes,  a  bucket,  a  pair  of  plain-glass  spectacles 
for  under- water  use,  a  jar  of  drinking-water,  and  food 
for  later  in  the  day. 

The  sun  was  already  high  in  the  unclouded  sky  when 
we  lifted  the  mat  sail,  and  glided  through  the  pale-blue 
pond,  the  shores  of  which  were  a  melting  contrast  of  ala- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  235 

baster  and  viridescence.  All  about  us  were  our  friends 
in  their  own  craft,  and  the  single  motor-boat  of  the 
island,  Mapuhi's,  towed  a  score  of  cutters  and  canoes 
to  their  appointed  places.  A  slender  breeze  sufficed 
to  set  us,  with  a  few  tacks,  at  our  exact  spot.  We 
furled  our  sail,  stowed  it  along  the  outrigger,  and  were 
ready  for  the  plunge.  We  did  not  anchor  the  canoe 
because  of  the  profundity  of  the  water  and  because  it  is 
not  the  custom  to  do  so.  I  sat  with  a  paddle  in  my  hand 
for  a  few  minutes  but  laid  it  down  when  Nohea  picked 
up  the  looking-glass.  He  put  the  unlidded  box  into 
the  water  and  his  head  into  it  and  gazed  intently  for  a 
few  moments,  moving  the  frame  about  to  sweep  the  bot- 
tom, of  the  lagoon  with  his  wise  eyes. 

The  water  was  as  smooth  as  a  mirror.  I  saw  the 
bed  of  the  inland  sea  as  plainly  as  one  does  the  floor  of 
an  aquarium  a  few  feet  deep.  No  streams  poured 
debris  into  it,  nor  did  any  alluvium  cloud  its  crystal  pur- 
ity. Coral  and  gravel  alone  were  the  base  of  its  floor 
and  sides,  and  the  result  was  a  surpassing  transparency 
of  the  water  not  believable  by  comparison  with  any  other 
lake. 

"How  far  is  that  toa  aau?"  I  asked,  and  pointed  to  a 
bank  of  coral. 

Nohea  sized  up  the  object,  took  his  head  from  the 
titea  mata,  and  replied,  "Sixty  feet." 

At  that  distance  I  could,  unaided,  see  plainly  a  piece 
of  coral  as  big  as  my  hand.  The  view  was  as  variegated 
as  the  richest  landscape — a  wilderness  of  vegetation, 
of  magnificent  marine  verdure,  sloping  hills  and  high 
towers  with  irregular  windows,  in  which  the  sunshine 


236  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

streamed  in  a  rainbow  of  gorgeous  colors ;  and  the  shells 
and  bodies  of  scores  of  zoophytes  dwelling  upon  the 
structures  gleamed  and  glistened  like  jewels  in  the  flood 
of  light.  About  these  were  patches  of  snow-white 
sand,  blinding  in  refracted  brilliancy,  and  beside  them 
green  bushes  or  trees  of  herbage-covered  coral,  all  beau- 
tiful as  a  dream-garden  of  the  Nereids  and  as  imaginary. 
Even  when  I  withdrew  my  eyes  from  this  fantastic 
scene,  the  lagoon  and  shore  were  hardy  less  fabulous. 
The  palms  waved  along  the  beach  as  banners  of  seduc- 
tion to  a  sense  of  sheer  animism,  of  investiture  of  their 
trunks  and  leaves  with  the  spirits  of  the  atoll.  Not 
seldom  I  had  heard  them  call  my  name  in  the  darkness, 
sometimes  in  invitation  to  enchantment  and  again  in 
warning  against  temptation.  The  cutters  or  canoes  of 
the  village  were  like  lily-pads  upon  the  placid  water, 
far  apart,  white  or  brown,  the  voices  of  the  people 
whispers  in  the  calm  air.  I  wished  I  were  a  boy  to 
know  to  the  full  the  feeling  of  adventure  among  such 
divine  toys  which  had  brought  glad  tears  to  my  eyes 
in  my  early  wanderings. 

The  canoe  had  drifted,  and  Nohea  slipped  over  its 
side  and  again  spied  with  the  glass.  I,  too,  looked 
through  mine  and  saw  where  he  indicated  a  ridge  or 
bank  of  coral  upon  which  were  several  oyster-shells. 
Nohea  immediately  climbed  into  the  canoe  and,  resting 
upon  the  side  prayed  a  few  moments,  bowing  his  head 
and  nodding  as  if  in  the  temple.  Then  he  began  to 
breathe  heavily.  For  several  minutes  he  made  a  great 
noise,  drawing  in  the  air  and  expelling  it  forcibly,  so 
that  he  seemed  to  be  wasting  energy.  I  was  almost  con- 
vinced that  he  exaggerated  the  value  of  his  emotions  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  287 

explosive  sounds,  but  his  impassive  face  and  remem- 
brance of  his  race's  freedom  from  our  exhibition  con- 
ceit, drove  the  foolish  thought  away.  His  chest,  very 
capacious  normally,  was  bursting  with  stored  air,  a 
storage  beyond  that  of  our  best  trained  athletes;  and 
without  a  word  he  went  over  the  side  and  allowed  his 
body  to  descend  through  the  water.  He  made  no  splash 
at  all  but  sank  as  quietly  as  a  stone.  I  fastened  my 
head  in  the  titea  mata  and  watched  his  every  move- 
ment. He  had  about  his  waist  a  pareu  of  calico,  blue 
with  large  white  flowers, — the  design  of  William  Morris, 
— and  a  sharp  sailor's  sheath-knife  at  the  belt.  Around 
his  neck  was  a  sack  of  cocoanut-fiber,  and  on  his  right 
hand  a  glove  of  common  denim.  Almost  all  his  robust 
brown  body  was  naked  for  his  return  to  the  sea-slime 
whence  his  first  ancestor  had  once  crawled. 

Down  he  went  through  the  pellucid  liquid  until  at 
about  ten  feet  the  resistance  of  the  water  stopped  his 
course  and,  animated  bubble  as  he  was,  would  have 
pushed  him  to  the  air  again.  But  Nohea  turned  in  a 
flash,  and  with  his  feet  uppermost  struck  out  vigor- 
ously. He  forced  himself  down  with  astonishing  speed 
and  in  twenty  seconds  was  at  his  goal.  He  caught  hold 
of  a  gigantic  goblet  of  coral  and  rested  himself  an  in- 
stant as  he  marked  his  object,  the  ledge  of  darker  rocks 
on  which  grew  the  shells.  There  were  sharp-edged 
shapes  and  branching  plant-like  forms,  which,  appear- 
ing soft  as  silk  from  above  would  wound  him  did  he 
graze  them  with  his  bare  skin.  He  moved  carefully 
about  and  finally  reached  the  shells.  One  he  gripped 
with  the  gloved  hand,  for  the  shell,  too,  had  serrated 
edges,  and,  working  it  to  and  fro,  he  broke  it  loose  from 


238  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

its  probable  birthplace  and  thrust  it  into  his  sack.  Im- 
mediately he  attacked  the  other,  and  as  quickly  de- 
tached it.  He  stooped  down  and  looked  closely  all 
about  him.  He  then  sprang  up,  put  his  arms  over  his 
head,  his  palms  pressed  one  on  the  other,  and  shot 
toward  the  surface.  I  could  see  him  coming  toward 
me  like  a  bolt  from  a  catapult.  I  held  a  paddle  to 
move  the  canoe  from  his  path  if  he  should  strike  it, 
and  to  meet  him  the  trice  he  flashed  into  the  ether. 

The  diver  put  his  right  arm  over  the  outrigger  boom, 
and  opening  his  mouth  gulped  the  air  as  does  the  bonito 
when  first  hauled  from  the  ocean.  I  was  as  still  as 
death.  In  a  seance  once  I  was  cautioned  not  to  speak 
during  the  materializations,  as  the  disturbance  might 
kill  the  medium.  I  recalled  that  unearthly  silence,  for 
the  moment  of  emergence  was  the  most  fatal  to  the 
diver.  His  senses  after  the  terrible  pressure  of  such  a 
wei^t  upon  his  body  were  as  abnormal  and  acute  as 
a  man's  whose  nerves  have  been  stripped  by  flaying. 
The  change  in  a  few  seconds  from  being  laden  and 
hemmed  in  by  many  tons  of  water  to  the  lightness  of 
the  atmosphere  was  ravaging.  Slowly  the  air  was  re- 
spired, and  gradually  his  system, — heart,  glands,  lungs, 
and  blood, — resumed  its  ordinary  rhythm,  and  his 
organs  functioned  as  before  his  descent.  Several 
minutes  passed  before  he  raised  his  head  from  the  out- 
rigger, opened  his  eyes,  which  were  suffused  with  blood, 
and  said  in  a  low  tone  of  the  deaf  person,  ''E  tau  Atua 
et"  He  was  thanking  his  God  for  the  gift  of  life  and 
health.  He  had  been  tried  with  Meshach,  Shadrach, 
and  Abednego,  though  not  by  fire. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  289 

Nohea  lifted  himself  into  the  canoe,  and  took  the  sack 
of  coir  from  his  neck.  I  removed  the  two  pairs  of 
shells  with  the  reverence  one  might  assume  in  taking  the 
new-born  babe  from  its  first  cradle.  They  were  Holy 
Grails  to  me  who  had  witnessed  their  wringing  from 
the  tie-ribs  of  earth.  They  were  shaped  like  a  stem- 
less  palm-leaf  fan,  about  eight  inches  tall  and  ten  wide, 
rough  and  black;  and  still  adhering  to  their  base  was 
a  tangle  of  dark-green  silky  threads,  the  byssus  or 
strong  filament  which  attaches  them  to  their  fulcrum, 
the  ledge.  It  was  the  byssus  which  Nohea  had  to 
wrench  from  the  rock.  I  laid  down  the  shells  and  re- 
stored the  sack  to  Nohea,  who  sat  immobile,  perhaps 
thoughtless.  Another  brief  space  of  time,  and  he 
smiled  and  clapped  his  hands. 

"That  was  ten  fathoms,"  he  said.  "Paddle  toward 
that  clump  of  trees"  (they  were  a  mile  away),  "and  we 
will  seek  deeper  water." 

A  few  score  strokes  and  we  were  nearer  the  center 
of  the  lagoon.  With  my  bare  eyes  I  could  not  make  out 
the  quality  of  the  bottom  but  only  its  general  configura- 
tion. Nohea  said  the  distance  was  twenty  fathoms. 
The  looking-glass  disclosed  a  long  ledge  with  a  flat  shelf 
for  a  score  of  feet,  and  he  said  he  made  out  a  number 
of  large  shells.  It  took  the  acutest  concentration  on  my 
part  to  find  them,  with  his  direction,  for  his  eyes  were 
twice  as  keen  as  mine  from  a  lifetime's  usage  upon  his 
natural  surroundings.  We  sacrificed  our  birthright  of 
vivid  senses  to  artificial  habits,  lights,  and  the  printed 
page.  Nohea  made  ready  to  go  down,  but  changed 
slightly  his  method  and  equipment.     He  dropped  the 


240  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

iron-hooped  net  into  the  water  by  its  line  and  allowed 
it  to  sink  to  the  ledge.  Then  he  raised  it  a  few  feet  so 
that  it  would  swing  clear  of  the  bottom. 

"It  will  hold  my  shells  and  indicate  to  me  exactly 
where  the  canoe  is,"  he  explained.  "At  this  depth, 
120  feet,  I  want  to  rest  immediately  on  reaching  the 
surface,  and  not  to  have  to  swim  to  the  canoe.  I  have 
not  dived  for  many  months,  and  I  am  no  longer  young." 

He  attached  the  line  to  the  outrigger,  and  then,  after 
a  fervent  prayer  to  which  I  echoed  a  nervous  amen,  he 
began  his  breathing  exercises.  Louder  than  before  and 
more  actively  he  expanded  his  lungs  until  they  held  a 
maximum  of  stored  oxygen,  and  then  with  a  smile  he 
slid  through  the  water  until  he  reversed  his  body  and 
swam.  In  his  left  hand  now  he  had  a  shell,  a  single  side 
of  a  bivalve;  and  this  he  moved  like  an  oar  or  paddle, 
catching  the  water  with  greater  force,  and  pulling  him- 
self down  with  it  and  the  stroke  of  the  other  arm,  as 
well  as  a  slight  motion  of  the  feet.  The  entire  move- 
ment was  perfectly  suited  to  his  purpose,  and  he  made 
such  rapid  progress  that  he  was  beside  the  hoop-net  in 
less  than  a  minute.  He  had  a  number  of  pairs  of  shells 
stripped  from  the  shelf  and  in  the  swinging  net  in  a  few 
seconds  more,  and  then,  drawn  by  others  he  discerned 
further  along  the  ledge,  he  swam,  and  dragged  himself 
by  seizing  the  coral  forms,  and  reached  another  bank.  I 
paddled  the  canoe  gently  behind  him.  I  lost  sight  of 
him  then  completely.  Either  he  was  hidden  behind  a 
huge  stone  obelisk  or  he  had  gone  beyond  my  power 
of  sight.  ^ 

A  gigantic  black  shape  swjam  into  view  near  the  oscil- 
lating hoop,  and  a  horror  swept  over  me.     It  disap- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  241 

peared,  but  Nohea  was  still  missing.  The  time  beat  in 
my  veins  like  a  pendulum.  Every  throb  seemed  a 
second,  and  they  began  to  count  themselves  in  my  brain. 
How  long  was  it  since  Nohea  had  left  me?  A  minute 
and  a  half?  Two  minutes?  That  is  an  age  without 
breathing.  Something  must  have  injured  him.  Slowly 
the  moments  struck  against  my  heart.  I  could  not 
look  through  the  titea  mata  any  longer.  Another  sixty 
seconds  and  despair  had  chilled  me  so  I  shook  in  the 
hot  sunshine  as  with  ague.  I  was  cold  and  weak.  Sud- 
denly I  felt  a  pull  at  the  rope,  the  canoe  moved  slightly, 
and  hope  grew  warm  in  me.  I  perceived  an  agitation 
of  the  water  gradually  ascending,  and  in  a  few  instants 
the  diver  sprang  out  of  the  lagoon  to  his  waist.  He 
threw  his  arm  over  the  outrigger,  and  bent  down  in 
agony.  His  suffering  was  written  in  the  contortion 
of  his  face,  the  blood  in  his  eyes,  and  a  writhing  of  his 
whole  body.  He  gasped  madly  at  his  first  emergence, 
and  then  his  bosom  rose  and  fell  in  lessening  spasms. 
The  cramp  which  had  convulsed  his  form  relaxed,  and, 
as  minute  after  minute  elapsed,  his  face  lost  its  rigidity, 
his  pulse  slackened  to  normal,  and  he  said  feebly,  "E 
tau  AtuaeT  With  my  assistance  he  hauled  himself 
into  the  canoe  and  lay  half  prone. 

"You  saw  no  shark?"  I  asked. 

"I  saw  his  shadow,  but  it  was  not  he  that  detained  me. 
I  saw  a  bank  which  might  hold  shells  and  I  explored 
it.     We  will  see  what  I  have." 

We  pulled  up  the  hoop-net,  and  in  it  were  thirteen 
pairs  of  shells.  These  were  larger  than  the  others, 
older,  and,  as  he  said,  from  a  more  advantageous  place 
for  feeding,  so  that  their  residents,  being  better  nour- 


242  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ished  had  made  larger  and  finer  houses  for  themselves. 
Some  of  the  thirteen  were  eighteen  inches  across.  He 
said  that  he  had  roamed  seventy  feet  on  the  bottom,  and 
he  had  been  down  two  and  a  half  minutes.  He  had 
made  observation  of  the  ledges  all  about  and  intended 
going  a  little  deeper.  I  had  but  to  look  at  the  rope  of 
the  net  to  gage  the  distance  for  it  was  marked  with 
knots  and  bits  of  colored  cotton  to  give  the  lengths  like 
the  marks  on  a  lead-line  on  shipboard.  I  wanted  to 
demur  to  his  more  dangerous  venture,  but  I  did  not. 
This  was  his  avocation  and  adventure,  his  war  with  the 
elements,  and  he  must  follow  it  and  conquer  or  fail. 

Again  he  dived,  and  this  time  at  148  feet.  This  was 
almost  the  limit  of  men  in  suits  with  air  pumps  or  oxy- 
gen-tanks, and  they  were  always  let  down  and  brought 
up  gradually,  to  accustom  their  blood  to  the  altering 
pressure.  Half  an  hour  or  an  hour  was  often  con- 
sumed in  hauling  a  diver  up  from  the  depth  from  which 
Nohea  sprang  in  a  few  seconds.  His  transcendent  cour- 
age and  consummate  skill  were  matched  by  his  body's 
trained  resistance  to  the  effect  of  such  extreme  pres- 
sure of  water  and  the  remaining  without  breathing  for 
so  long  a  time.  I  could  appreciate  his  achievements 
more  than  most  people,  for  I  had  seen  the  divers  of 
many  races  at  work  in  many  waters.  Ninety  feet  was 
the  boundary  of  all  except  the  Paumotuans  and  those 
who  used  machines.  But  here  was  Nohea  exceeding 
that  by  sixty  feet  in  my  view,  and  I  knew  that  greater 
depths  must  be  attained.  Impelled  by  an  instantane- 
ous urge  to  contrast  my  own  capabilities  with  Nohea*s, 
I  measured  off  thirty  feet  on  the  line,  and,  putting  it 
in  his  hands  to  hold,  I  breathed  to  my  fullest  and  leaped 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  243 

overboard.  At  three  lengths  of  my  figure,  less  than 
eighteen  feet,  I  experienced  alarm  and  pain.  I  un- 
loosed the  hoop  and  it  swayed  down  to  the  end  of  the 
five  fathoms  of  rope,  while  I  kicked  and  pulled,  and 
after  an  interminable  period  I  had  barely  touched  it 
again  before  I  became  convinced  that  if  I  did  not 
breathe  in  another  second  I  would  open  my  mouth. 
Nohea  knew  my  plight,  for  he  yanked  at  the  rope,  and 
with  his  effort  and  my  own  frantic  exertion  I  made  the 
air,  and  humbly  hugged  the  outrigger  until  I  was  my- 
self. Thirty  feet!  And  Nohea  had  brought  up  the 
shells  from  148. 

He  paid  dearly.  Several  times  of  the  score  that  he 
probed  the  deeper  retreats  of  the  oysters,  he  was  pros- 
trated for  minutes  upon  his  egress  and  in  throes  of  severe 
pain  during  the  readjustment  of  pressure;  but  he  con- 
tinued to  pursue  his  fascinating  and  near-fatal  employ- 
ment until  by  afternoon  a  heap  of  heavy,  darkish  bi- 
valves lay  in  the  canoe.  My  curiosity  had  been  heated 
since  I  had  lifted  the  first  shell,  and  it  was  with  increas- 
ing impatience  that  I  waited  for  the  milder  but  not  less 
interesting  phase  of  his  labor,  the  scrutiny  of  the  interior 
of  the  shells  for  pearls. 

There  are  two  moments  in  a  diver's  life ; 
One,  when,  a  beggar,  he  prepares  to  plunge ; 
Then,  when,  a  prince,  he  rises  with  his  pearl. 

The  poet  visioned  Nohea's  emotions,  perhaps,  but  he 
had  schooled  himself  to  postpone  his  satisfaction  until 
the  day's  harvest  was  gathered.  When  we  had  paddled 
the  canoe  into  shallow  waters,  and  the  sun  was  slanting 
fast  down  the  western  side  of  earth,  Nohea  surrendered 


244.  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

himself  to  the  realization  or  dissipation  of  his  dream. 
He  knew  that  a  thousand  shells  contain  no  pearls,  that 
the  princely  state  came  to  few  in  decades.  But  the 
diver  had  the  yearning  and  credulous  mind  of  the  gold 
prospector,  and  lived  in  expectation  as  did  he.  The 
glint  of  a  pebble,  the  sheen  of  yellow  sand,  set  his  pulse 
to  beating  more  rapidly;  and  so  with  the  diver.  He 
knew  that  pearls  of  great  value  had  been  found  many 
times,  and  that  one  such  trove  might  make  him  rich  for 
life,  independent  of  daily  toil,  and  free  of  the  traps  and 
pangs  of  the  plunge. 

Nohea  thrust  his  knife  between  the  blades  of  a  bivalve 
and  pried  open  his  resisting  jaws.  True  pearls  lie  in 
the  tissues  of  the  oyster,  generally  in  the  rear  of  the 
body  and  sealed  in  a  pocket.  Nohea  laid  down  the 
parted  shell  and  seized  the  animal,  and  dissected  his 
boneless  substance  in  a  gesture  of  eager  inquiry.  I 
watched  his  actions  with  as  sharp  response,  and  sighed 
as  each  oyster  in  turn  was  thrown  into  the  bucket,  in 
which  was  sea-water.  When  all  had  been  submitted  to 
the  test  and  no  pearl  had  flashed  upon  our  hopeful 
eyes  we  examined  the  shells,  trusting  that  though  the 
true  pearls  had  escaped  us  we  might  find  blisters,  those 
which,  having  a  point  of  contact  with  the  shell,  are  thus 
not  perfect  in  shape  and  skin,  but  have  a  flaw.  These 
often  have  large  value,  if  they  can  be  skinned  to  advan- 
tage ;  and  the  diver  put  his  smaller  hopes  upon  them. 

With  pearls,  orient  or  blister,  eliminated,  the  pri- 
mary and  actually  more  important  basis  of  the  industry 
appealed  to  Nohea.  He  estimated  the  weight  and  value 
of  the  shells,  which  would  be  transported  to  London  for 
manufacture  in  the  French  Department  of  the  Oise 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  245 

into  the  black  pearl  buttons  that  ornament  women's 
dresses.  These  Pamnotuan  shells  were  celebrated  for 
their  black  borders,  nacre  a  hord  noir,  more  valuable 
than  the  gold-lipped  product  of  the  Philippines,  but  a 
third  cheaper  than  the  silver-lipped  shells  of  Australia. 
With  at  least  the  comfort  of  a  heavy  catch  of  this  less  re- 
munerative though  hardly  less  beautiful  creation  of  the 
oyster,  Nohea  pointed  out  to  me  that  the  formation  of 
the  mother-of-pearl  or  nacre  on  the  shells  was  from  left 
to  right,  as  if  the  oyster  were  right  minded. 

"When  the  whorls  of  a  shell  are  from  right  to  left," 
he  said,  "that  shell  is  valuable  as  a  curiosity.  The  peo- 
ple of  Asia,  the  Chinese,  pay  well  for  it,  and  a  Chinese 
shell-buyer  now  here  told  me  that  in  Initia  [India] 
they  weighed  it  with  gold  in  old  times.  In  China  they 
keep  such  shells  in  the  temples  to  hold  the  sacred  oil, 
and  the  priests  administer  magic  medicine  in  them." 

Nohea  completed  the  round  of  the  day's  undertaking 
by  macerating  the  oysters  and  throwing  them  into  the 
lagoon  that  their  spawn  might  be  released  for  another 
generation.  He  cut  off  and  threaded  the  adhesive 
muscle  of  the  oyster,  the  tatari  ioro,  to  eat  when  dried. 
It  was  something  like  the  scallop  or  abalone  abductor 
muscle  sold  in  our  markets.  The  shells  would  be  put 
into  the  sheds  or  warehouses  to  dry  and  to  be  beaten  and 
rubbed  so  as  to  reduce  the  bulk  of  their  backs,  which 
have  no  value  but  weigh  heavily. 

After  we  had  supped,  Nohea  and  the  older  divers 
gathered  at  Mapuhi's  for  a  discussion  of  the  day's  luck, 
and  I  went  along  to  the  coterie  of  traders  by  Lying  Bill's 
firm's  store.  A  cocoanut-husk  fire  was  burning,  and 
about  it  sat  Bill,  McHenry,  Llewellyn,  Nimau,  Mandel, 


246  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Kopcke,  and  others.  Mandel  was  the  most  notable 
pearl-buyer  and  expert  here,  with  an  office  in  Paris  and 
a  warehouse  in  Papeete.  He  was  huge  and  with  gross 
features,  and  was  rated  as  the  richest  man  in  these  South 
Seas.  His  own  schooner  had  dropped  anchor  off  Taka- 
roa  a  few  days  before  with  Mrs.  Mandel  in  command. 
He  might  make  the  bargain  for  pearls,  but  she  would 
do  the  paying  and  squeeze  the  most  out  of  the  price 
to  the  native.  She  ruled  with  no  soft  hand,  and  in  her 
long  life  had  solved  many  difficult  problems  in  money- 
grubbing  in  this  archipelago.  Her  husband  was  the 
head  of  the  Mandel  tribe,  but  sons  and  daughter  all 
knew  the  dancing  boards  of  the  schooner  and  the  intrica- 
cies of  the  pearl-market.  Usually  Mandel  stayed  in 
Tahiti  or  visited  Paris,  but  the  rahui  in  Takaroa  was 
too  promising  a  prize  for  any  of  them  to  remain  away, 
and  all  of  the  family  were  diligent  in  intrigue  and  ne- 
gotiation. Mandel  had  handled  the  finest  pearls  of  the 
Paumotus  for  many  years.  I  had  seen  Mrs.  Mandel 
come  ashore,  in  a  sheeny  yellow  Mother-Hubbard  or. 
Tahitian  ahu  vahine  and  a  cork  helmet;  but  she  made 
her  home  on  her  schooner,  to  which  she  invited  those 
from  whom  her  good  man  had  purchased  shell  or  pearls. 

Pearls  were,  of  course,  the  subject  of  the  talk  about 
the  fire.  Toae,  a  Hikueru  man,  had  found  one,  and 
Mandel  had  it  already.  He  showed  it  to  me,  a  pea- 
shaped,  dusky  object,  with  no  striking  beauty. 

"I  may  be  mistaken,"  said  Mandel,  "but  I  believe 
this  outside  layer  is  poorer  than  one  inside.  In  Paris  my 
employees  will  peel  it  and  see.  It  is  taking  a  chance, 
but  we  have  a  second  sight  about  it.  You  know  a  pearl 
is  like  an  onion,  with  successive  skins,  and  we  take  off 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  247 

a  number  sometimes.  It  reduces  the  size  but  may  in- 
crease the  luster.  Also  we  are  using  the  ultra-violet 
ray  to  improve  color.  I  saw  a  pearl  that  cost  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  sold  for  three  hundred  thousand 
after  the  ray  was  used  on  it.  You  know  a  pearl  is  pro- 
duced only  by  a  sick  oyster.  It  is  a  pathological  prod- 
uct like  gall-stones,  and  it  is  mostly  caused  by  a  tape- 
worm getting  into  the  oyster's  shell,  though  a  grain  of 
sand  is  often  the  nucleus.  The  oyster  feels  the  grating 
or  irritating  thing  and  secretes  nacre  to  cover  it.  The 
tapeworm  is  embalmed  in  this  mother-of-pearl,  and  the 
sand  smoothed  with  it.  The  material,  the  nacre,  is 
the  same  as  the  interior  of  the  shell,  and  the  oyster 
seems  not  to  stop  covering  the  intruder  when  the  itching 
has  stopped  but  keeps  on  out  of  habit.  And  so  forms 
small  and  big  pearls.  Now  a  blister  is  generally  over 
a  bug  or  snail,  though  sometimes  it  is  a  stop-gap  to  keep 
out  a  borer  who  is  drilling  through  the  shell  from  the 
outside.  The  blisters  are  usually  hollow,  whereas  a 
pearl  has  a  yellow  center  with  the  carbonate  of  lime  in 
concentric  prisms.  An  orient  or  true  pearl  is  formed 
in  the  muscles  of  the  oyster  and  does  not  touch  the 
shell ;  but  the  blister,  which  generally  is  part  of  the  shell, 
may  have  been  started  in  the  oyster's  sac  or  folds,  and 
have  dropped  out  or  been  released  to  hold  between  the 
oyster  and  the  shell.  With  these  we  cut  away  the  out- 
side down  to  the  original  pearl.  A  blister  itself  is  only 
good  for  a  brooch  or  an  ornament,  but  I  have  gotten 
five  or  ten  thousand  francs  for  the  best.** 

Captain  Nimau,  who  was  only  less  clever  than  Mandel 
in  the  lore  of  pearls,  said  that,  as  the  lagoons  were  often 
three  hundred  feet  or  deeper  in  places,  it  was  probable 


248  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

that    larger  pearls  than  ever  yet  brought  up  were  in 
these  untouched  caches. 

"The  Paumotuan  has  descended  180  feet,"  said 
Nimau.  "I  have  plumbed  his  dive.  A  diver  with  a 
suit  cannot  go  any  deeper,  and  so  we  never  have  ex- 
plored the  possible  beds  *way  down.  The  whole  face 
of  the  outer  reef  may  be  a  vast  oyster-bed,  but  the  surf 
prevents  us  from  investigating.  I  have  seen  in  Decem- 
ber and  March  of  many  years  millions  of  baby  oysters 
floating  into  the  lagoons  with  the  rising  tide,  to  remain 
there.  They  never  go  out  again  but  prefer  the  quiet 
life  where  they  can  grow  up  strong  and  big.  The  singu- 
lar thing  about  these  pearl-oysters  is  that  they  can 
move  about.  When  you  try  to  break  them  loose  from 
the  ledge  they  prove  to  be  very  firmly  attached  by  their 
byssus,  but  they  travel  from  one  shelf  to  another  when 
they  need  a  change  of  food.  It  is  not  sand  they  are  most 
afraid  of.  They  can  spit  their  nacre  on  it  if  it  gets  in 
their  shells ;  but  it  is  the  little  red  crab  that  bothers  them 
most.  You  know  how  often  you  find  the  crab  living 
happily  in  the  pearl-shell  because  when  the  oyster  feeds 
he  gets  his  share,  and  he  is  too  active  for  the  oyster  to 
kill  as  it  does  the  worm,  by  spitting  its  nacre  on  him  and 
entombing  him.  Some  day  divers  in  improved  suits 
will  search  for  the  thousands  of  pearls  that  have  fallen 
upon  the  bottom  from  dead  oysters,  and  maybe  make 
millions.  Mais,  apres  tout,  pearls  may  soon  have  little 
value,  for  they  say  that  the  Japanese  and  other  people 
are  growing  them  like  mushrooms,  and,  though  they  have 
not  yet  perfected  the  orient  or  true  pearl,  they  may  some 
day.  One  man,  some  kind  of  foreigner,  who  used  to  be 
around  here,  discovered  the  secret,  but  it 's  lost  now." 


XIT  HO  8vl.iO'i/. 

'yfh  '\o  %  <*niui  e^iiwi  Iwjii-! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

The  palace  of  the  governor  of  the  Marquesas  in  the  vale  of  Atuona — 
Monsieur  L'Hermier  des  Plantes,  Ghost  Girl,  Miss  Tail,  and  Song 
of  the  Nightingale — Tapug  in  the  South  Seas — Strange  conventions 
that  regulate  life — ^A  South  Seas  Paokhurst — How  women  won  their 
freedom. 

THE  palace  of  the  governor  was  within  half  a  mile 
of  my  abode  in  the  vale  of  Atuona,  on  the  island 
of  Hiva-Oa,  the  capital  of  the  Marquesan  Archi- 
pelago. It  was  a  broad  and  deep  valley,  "the  most 
beautiful,  and  by  far  the  most  ominous  and  gloomy,  spot 
on  earth,"  said  Stevenson.  Umbrageous  and  silent, 
it  was  watered  by  a  stream,  which,  born  in  the  distant 
hills,  descended  in  falls  and  rills  and  finally  a  chatter- 
ing brook  to  the  bay.  Magnificent  forests  of  many 
kinds  of  trees,  a  hundred  vines  and  flowers,  with  rarest 
orchids,  and  a  tangled  mass  of  grasses  and  creepers, 
lined  the  banks  of  the  little  river,  and  filled  the  rising 
confines  of  the  dell,  which,  as  it  climbed,  grew  narrower 
and  darker,  and  more  melancholy  of  aspect,  the  poignant 
melancholy  of  a  sad  loveliness  past  telling  or  analyzing. 
A  huge  fortress  of  rocks  rose  almost  sheer  above  my 
cottage,  lowering  in  shadow  and  terrible  in  storm,  the 
highest  point  in  the  Marquesas.  In  sunshine  it  was  the 
brilliant  rampart  of  the  world-god's  battlement,  reflect- 
ing his  flashing  rays,  and  throwing  a  sheen  of  luminosity 
upon  the  depths  of  the  strath.  This  lofty  peak  of  Te- 
metiu,  nearly  a  mile  in  the  sky,  was  the  tower  of  a  vast 
structure  of  broken  hills,  gigantic  columns,  pinnacles, 

249 


250  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

tilted  and  vertical  rocks,  ruins  of  titanic  battles  of  fire 
and  water  in  ages  gone.  I  had  but  to  lift  my  eyes  and 
lower  them  to  know  that  man  here  as  in  the  Paumotus 
had  but  triflingly  affected  his  environment.  From  the 
castellated  summits  to  the  beach  where  I  had  landed,  the 
dwellings  of  humans  seemed  lost  in  the  dense  foliage 
dominated  by  the  lofty  cocoanuts  and  the  spreading 
breadfruits. 

The  palace  of  the  young  French  administrator  was  in 
a  garden  in  which  grew  exotic  flowers  brought  by  prede- 
cessors who  sought  to  assuage  their  nostalgia  by  familiar 
charms.  The  palace  had  large  verandas,  and  they  were 
most  of  it,  as  in  all  tropical  countries  where  mosquitoes 
are  not  too  menacing.  The  reading  and  lounging,  the 
eating  and  drinking,  took  place  there,  and  generally 
a  delicious  breeze  cooled  the  humid  air  and  drove  away 
any  insects  that  might  annoy.  Almost  daily  I  was  the 
guest  of  the  governor  at  a  meal,  or  in  the  evening  after 
dinner,  for  a  merry  hour  or  two.  We  might  be  alone, 
or  with  Andre  Bauda,  the  tax  collector,  postmaster,  and 
chief  of  police,  or  not  seldom  with  one  or  more  of  the 
fairest  of  the  Marquesan  girls  of  the  island  of  Hiva-Oa. 
For  the  governor  was  host  not  only  to  the  beauties  of 
our  valley  of  Atuona,  but  sent  Flag,  the  native  mutoi, 
or  policeman,  of  the  capital,  to  other  villages  over  the 
mountains,  to  invite  those  whom  Flag  thought  would 
lessen  his  ennui.  Far  from  his  beloved  Midi,  the  gov- 
ernor retained  a  Gallic  and  gallant  attitude  toward 
young  women,  and  never  tired  of  their  prattle,  their 
insatiable  thirst  for  the  beverages  of  France,  and  their 
light  laughter  when  lifted  out  of  their  habitual  gravity 
by  these.    Determined  to  learn  their  tongue  as  quickly 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  251 

as  possible,  being  no  longer  resident  than  I  in  the  Mar- 
quesas, he  kept  about  him  a  lively  lexicon  or  two  to  fur- 
nish him  words  and  practice.  Midnight  often  came 
with  the  rest  of  the  village  already  hours  upon  their 
sleeping-mats,  but  on  the  palace  porches  a  gabble  of 
conversation,  the  lilt  of  a  chant,  or  perhaps  the  patter 
of  a  hula  dance  of  bare  feet  upon  the  boards.  The 
Protestant  and  Catholic  missionaries,  though  opposed  to 
each  other  upon  doctrinal  and  disciplinary  subjects, 
united  in  condemnation  of  the  conduct  of  the  high  rep- 
resentative of  sovereignty.  But,  like  the  governor  of 
the  Paumotus,  he  replied:  "La  vie  est  triste;  vive  la 
hagatalle."     Life  is  sad ;  let  joy  be  unconfined. 

The  governor's  menage  had  only  one  attendant.  Song 
of  the  Nightingale,  and  he  served  only  because  he  was 
a  prisoner,  and  preferred  the  domestic  duties  to  repair- 
ing trails  or  sitting  all  day  in  the  calaboose  by  the  beach. 
There  was  no  servant  in  the  Marquesas.  Whatever  civ- 
ilization had  done  to  them, — and  it  had  undone  them 
almost  entirely, — it  had  not  made  them  menials.  There 
was  never  a  slave.  Here  death  was  preferable.  In 
Tahiti  one  might  procure  native  domestics  with  extreme 
difficulty  through  their  momentary  craving  for  gauds, 
or  through  affection,  but  one  bought  no  subservience. 
The  silent,  painstaking  European  or  American  or  Asi- 
atic, the  humble,  sir-ring  butler  and  footman,  could  not 
be  matched  in  the  South  Seas.  If  they  liked  one,  these 
indolent  people  would  work  for  one  now  and  then,  but 
must  be  allowed  to  have  their  own  way  and  say,  and,  if 
reproved,  it  must  be  in  the  tone  one  used  to  a  child  or  a 
relative.  The  governor  himself  was  compelled  to  en- 
dure Song  of  the  Nightingale's  lapses  and  familiarities. 


252  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

because  he  was  the  only  procurable  cook  in  the  islands. 
He  could  not  buy  or  persuade  one  of  his  lovely  guests, 
clothed  as  they  were  but  in  a  single  garment,  to  wash 
a  plate  or  shake  a  mat.  I,  it  was  true,  was  assisted  by 
Exploding  Eggs,  a  boy  of  fourteen  years,  but  I  made 
him  an  honored  companion  and  neophyte  whom  I  initi- 
ated into  the  mysteries  of  coffee-making  and  sweeping, 
and  he,  too,  often  wandered  away  for  a  day  or  two  with- 
out warning. 

The  table  was  spread  on  the  veranda  when  at  seven 
o'clock  I  opened  the  garden  gate  of  the  palace.  Flag 
had  delivered  to  me  an  enveloped  card  with  studious 
ceremony,  the  governor  sometimes  observing  the  ex- 
treme niceties  of  official  hospitality,  and  again  throwing 
them  to  the  winds,  especially  in  very  hot  weather.  Flag, 
barelegged  and  barefooted  as  always,  wore  the  red- 
striped  jacket  of  the  mutoi  and  a  loin-cloth,  and  carried 
a  capacious  leather  pouch  from  which  he  had  extracted 
the  made-in-Paris  carte  d'invitation.  To  him  it  was  a 
mysterious  summons  to  a  Lucullan  feast  which  he  might 
not  even  look  upon.  The  governor  was  dressing  when 
I  mounted  the  porch,  and  I  was  received  by  Song  of  the 
Nightingale.  He  was  a  middle-aged  desperado,  with  a 
leering  face,  given  a  Mephistophelian  cast  by  a  black 
whisker  extending  from  ear  to  ear,  and  by  heavy  lines  of 
blue  tattooing  upon  his  forehead.  He  had  white  blood 
in  him,  I  felt  sure,  for  he  had  a  cunning  wickedness  of 
aspect  that  lacked  the  simplicity  of  the  Marquesan. 
He  had  been  a  prisoner  many  years  for  various  of- 
fenses, but  mostly  for  theft  or  moonshining,  at  which 
he  was  adept,  and  he  was  the  one  Marquesan  I  would 
not  trust ;  he  had  been  too  much  with  whites.     One  won- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  253 

dered  at  times  whether  one's  life  was  not  the  pawn  of  a 
mood  of  such  a  villain,  but  the  French  had  hammered 
their  dominion  upon  these  sons  of  man-eaters  with  lead 
and  steel  in  the  early  days,  though  they  were  easy  and 
negligent  rulers  over  the  feeble  remnant. 

The  handsome  governor  came  from  his  boudoir  as 
Vehine-hae  and  Tahia-veo  said  ''Kaoha!"  Vehine-hae 
and  Tahia-veo  were  their  names  in  Marquesan,  which 
translated  exactly  Ghost  Girl  and  Miss  Tail.  The 
latter  was  a  petite^  engaging  girl  of  seventeen,  a  bru- 
nette in  color,  and  modest  and  sweet  in  disposition. 
Ghost  Girl  was  the  enigma  of  her  sex  there,  nineteen 
or  twenty,  living  alone  in  a  detached  hut,  and  singularly 
beautiful.  She  was  as  dark  as  a  Nubian,  with  a  volup- 
tuous figure,  small  hands  and  feet,  and  baggage  eyes 
of  melting  sepia  that  promised  devotion  unutterable. 
Her  nose  was  straight  and  perfect,  and  her  sensual 
mouth  filled  with  shining  teeth.  Of  all  the  Marquesan 
girls  she  wore  a  travesty  of  European  dress.  They  in 
public  wore  a  tight-fitting  peignoir  or  tunic,  and  in  pri- 
vate a  pareu>,  but  Ghost  Girl  had  on  a  silk  bodice  open 
to  disclose  her  ripe  symmetry,  and  a  lace  petticoat  about 
which  she  wore  a  silk  kerchief.  In  her  ebon  heap  of  hair 
she  wore  the  phosphorescent  flowers  of  the  Rat's  Ear. 
Her  mind  was  that  of  a  child  of  ten,  inquisitive  and  ac- 
quisitive, exhibitive  and  demanding. 

The  governor  seated  us,  the  ladies  opposite  each  other, 
and  the  dinner  began  with  appetizers  of  vermouth. 
The  aromatic  wine,  highly  fortified  as  it  was,  burned 
the  throat  of  Miss  Tail,  but  Ghost  Girl  drank  hers  with 
zest,  and  said,  "Motaki!  That's  fine !"  Neither  of  the 
girls  spoke  more  than  a  few  sentences  of  French,  though 


254  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

they  had  both  been  in  the  nuns'  school,  but  we  were  able 
with  our  knowledge  of  Marquesan  and  Song's  fragmen- 
tary French  to  carry  on  a  lively  interchange  of  words, 
if  not  of  thought. 

The  governor  had  shot  a  few  brace  of  huhu,  the  green 
doves  of  the  forest,  and  Song  had  spitted  them  over  a 
purau  wood  fire.  With  the  haunch  of  a  wild  goat  from 
the  hills  we  had  excellent  fare,  with  claret  and  white 
wine  from  Sauterne.  We  two  palefaces  wielded  forks, 
but  as  no  Polynesians  use  such  very  modern  inventions 
the  ladies  hfted  their  meat  to  their  mouths  without  arti- 
ficial aid.  Ghost  Girl,  as  befitting  her  European  attire, 
tried  to  use  a  fork,  but  shrieked  with  pain  when  she  suc- 
ceeded in  putting  only  the  tines  into  her  tongue.  We 
hardly  realize  the  pains  our  mothers  were  at  to  teach  us 
table-manners,  nor  that  gentlemen  of  Europe  ate  with 
their  fingers  at  a  period  when  chop-sticks  were  in  com- 
mon use  in  China  and  Japan,  except  in  time  of  mourn- 
ing. 

Song  of  the  Nightingale,  who,  doubtless,  had  in- 
dulged his  convict  hankering  for  alcohol  in  the  secret 
recesses  of  the  kitchen,  laughed  loudly  at  Ghost  Girl's 
pain,  and  when  he  placed  a  platter  of  the  kuku  on  the 
cloth,  and  she  refused  to  accept  one  of  the  grilled  birds 
his  snigger  became  derisive.  He  took  up  the  carving- 
fork  and  stuck  it  deep  into  a  kuku's  breast  and  put  it 
on  her  plate.  She  shuddered  and  started  back,  with 
her  hands  covering  her  long-lashed  eyes.  The  gover- 
nor demanded  in  a  slightly  angry  tone  to  know  what 
Song  had  done  to  frighten  her.  The  cook  explained 
that  Ghost  Girl  was  of  Hanavave,  on  the  island  of  Fatu- 
hiva,  a  day's  journey  distant,  and  that  the  bon  dieu  or 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  255 

god — he  said  pony-too — of  Fatu-hiva  was  the  kuku. 
She  had  been  appalled  at  his  suggestion  that  she  should 
eat  the  symbolic  tenement  of  her  mother's  deity,  though 
she  herself  ate  the  transubstantiated  host  at  communion 
in  the  Catholic  church  at  Atuona.  Not  content  with 
his  insult  to  her  ancestral  god,  and,  taking  his  cue  from 
the  governor's  roar  of  laughter  at  his  French  or  his  ex- 
planation, the  cruel  Song  said  a  bitter  thing  to  Ghost 
Girl. 

"Eat  the  kuku!''  he  said.  "It  will  taste  better  than 
your  grandmother  did." 

''Tuitui!  Shut  your  mouth!"  retorted  Vehine-hae. 
"There  were  no  thieves  in  our  tribe." 

That  was  a  hot  shot  at  Song's  crimes  and  penal  record, 
and  so  -animated  became  their  repartee  that  the  gov- 
ernor had  to  call  a  halt  and  demand  mutual  apologies. 
The  chef  informed  him  that  his  father  in  a  foray  upon 
Hanavave  had  taken  as  a  prize  of  war  the  grandmother 
of  Ghost  Girl,  and  had  eaten  her,  or  at  least,  whatever 
tidbit  he  had  liked.  It  was  history  that  she  had  been 
eaten  in  Taaoa,  Song's  home,  in  the  next  valley  to 
Atuona.  No  more  vindictive  remark  than  this,  nor 
more  hateful  action  than  his  oflPering  the  kuku  to  Ghost 
Girl,  could  be  imagined  in  the  rigid  etiquette  of  Mar- 
quesas society.  The  tears  were  in  the  soft  eyes  of 
>Vehine-hae,  and  the  alarmed  governor  dismissed  Song 
from  further  service  that  evening  and  took  the  weeping 
Fatu-hivan  in  his  arms  to  console  her. 

"Tapu!  Tapur  sobbed  Ghost  Girl.  The  kuku  was 
tapu  to  her  teeth,  as  the  American  flag  would  be  to  the 
feet  of  a  patriot.  Song  was  without  other  belief  than 
in  the  delight  of  drink,  but  Ghost  Girl  was  a  woman, 


^56  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  support  of  every  new  cult  and  the  prop  of  every  old 
one.  Superstition  the  world  over  will  die  last  in  the 
breast  of  the  female.  She  survives  subjugated  races, 
and  conserves  the  past,  because  her  instincts  are  stronger 
and  her  faculties  less  active  than  man's,  and  her  need 
of  worship  overwhelming. 

That  word  tapu  was  still  one  to  conjure  with  in  the 
Marquesas.  Flag,  the  policeman,  and  sole  deputy  of 
Commissaire  Bauda  on  the  island  of  Hiva-Oa,  had  in- 
voked it  a  few  days  before,  after  an  untoward  incident. 
Bauda  and  I  had  returned  on  horseback  from  a  journey 
to  the  other  side  of  the  island,  and,  at  the  post-tax- 
police  office  near  the  beach  where  Bauda  lived,  encount- 
ered Flag,  drunk.  Son  of  a  famous  dead  chief,  and 
himself  an  amiable,  bright  man  of  thirty,  he  had  not  re- 
sisted the  temptation  of  Bauda's  being  gone  for  a  day, 
to  abstract  a  bottle  of  absinthe  from  a  closet  and  con- 
sume the  quart.  Bauda  upbraided  him  and  ordered  him 
to  his  house,  but  Flag  seized  a  loaded  rifle  and  sounded 
an  ancient  battle-cry.  It  had  the  blood-curdling  qual- 
ity of  an  Indian  whoop. 

Neither  Bauda  nor  I  was  armed,  and  I  was  for  shelter 
behind  a  cocoanut-tree.  That  would  not  do  for  Bauda, 
nor  for  discipline. 

"Me  with  six  campaigns  in  Africa !  Mot  qui  parle!" 
exclaimed  the  former  officer  of  the  Foreign  Legion,  as 
he  tapped  his  breast  and  voiced  his  astonishment  at 
Flag's  temerity.  He  strode  toward  the  staggering 
mutoi,  and,  with  utter  disregard  of  the  rifle,  reached  his 
side.  He  wrenched  the  weapon  from  him,  and  with  a 
series  of  kicks  drove  him  into  the  calaboose  and  locked 
the  door  on  him. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  257 

"That  means  ten  years  in  Noumea  for  him,"  said  the 
commissaire,  savagely.  But  after  dinner,  which  I  got, 
when  he  had  meditated  upon  Flag's  willingness  as  a  cook 
and  his  ability  to  collect  taxes,  he  lessened  the  sentence 
to  a  year  at  hard  labor.  I  was  not  surprised  to  meet 
Flag  at  noon  the  next  day  with  his  accustomed  white 
jacket  with  its  red  stripe  upon  the  arm.  Man  cannot 
live  without  cooks,  and  perhaps  I  had  aided  leniency  by 
burning  a  bird. 

Flag  explained  to  me,  though  sheepishly,  that,  over- 
come by  the  litre  of  absinthe  as  he  was,  he  would  not 
have  injured  a  hair  of  Bauda's  head. 

"Bauda  is  tapu,  I  would  meet  an  evil  fate  did  I 
touch  him,"  said  Flag,  when  sober  and  sorry. 

I  stumbled  on  tapus  daily.  Vai  Etienne,  my  neigh- 
bor, gave  me  a  feast  one  day,  and  half  a  dozen  of  us, 
all  men,  sat  at  table.  Vai  Etienne,  having  lived 
several  years  in  Tahiti  had  Frenchified  ways.  His 
mother,  the  magnificent  Titihuti,  who  was  splendidly 
tattooed  from  toe  to  waist,  and  who  was  my  adopted 
mother,  waited  upon  us.  Offering  her  a  glass  of  wine, 
and  begging  her  to  sit  with  us,  I  discovered  that  the 
glass  her  son  drank  from  and  the  chair  a  man  sat  in 
were  tapu  to  her.  She  took  her  wine  from  a  shell,  but 
would  not  sit  at  table  with  us.  Of  course,  she  never  sat 
in  chairs,  anyhow,  nor  did  Vai  Etienne,  but  he  had  pro- 
vided these  for  the  whites. 

The  subject  of  the  tapus  of  the  South  Seas  was  end- 
less. The  custom,  tabu  or  kapu  in  Hawaiian,  and 
tambu  in  Fijian,  was  ill  expressed  in  our  "taboo,"  which 
means  the  pressure  of  public  sentiment,  or  family  or 
group  feeling.     Tapus  here  were  the  conventions  of 


258  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

primitive  people  made  awe-inspiring  for  enforcement  be- 
cause of  the  very  willfulness  of  these  primitives.  The 
custom  here  and  throughout  society  dated  from  the 
beginning  of  legend.  Laws  began  with  the  rules  laid 
down  by  the  old  man  of  the  family  and  made  dread  in 
the  tribe  or  sept  by  the  hocus-pocus  of  the  medicine 
man.  Tapus  may  have  been  the  foundation  of  all  penal 
laws  and  etiquette.  The  Jews  had  a  hundred  niceties 
of  religious,  sanitary,  and  social  tapus.  Warriors  were 
tapu  in  Homer's  day,  and  land  and  fish  were  tapu  to 
Grecian  warriors,  according  to  Plato.  Confucius  in 
the  "Li  Ki,"  ordained  men  and  women  not  to  sit  on  the 
same  mat,  nor  have  the  same  clothes-rack,  towel,  or 
comb,  nor  to  let  their  hands  touch  in  giving  and  receiv- 
ing, nor  to  do  a  score  of  other  trivial  things.  The  old 
Irish  had  many  tapus  and  totems,  and  many  legends  of 
harm  wrought  by  their  breaking,  a  famous  one  being 
"The  Destruction  of  Da  Derga's  Hostel." 

In  the  Marquesas  tapv^  were  the  most  important  part 
of  life,  as  ceremony  was  at  the  court  of  the  kings  of 
France.  They  governed  almost  every  action  of  the 
people,  as  the  rules  of  a  prison  do  convicts,  or  the 
precepts  of  a  monastery  monks.  Death  followed  the 
disobedience  of  many,  and  others  preserved  one  from 
the  hands  of  enemies.  There  being  no  organized  gov- 
ernment in  Polynesia,  tapus  took  the  place  of  laws 
and  edicts.  They  were,  in  fact,  spiritual  laws,  super- 
stition being  the  force  instead  of  a  penal  code.  They 
imposed  honesty,  for  if  a  man  had  any  dear  possession, 
he  had  the  priest  tapu  it  and  felt  secure.  Tapus  pro- 
tected betrothed  girls  and  married  women  from  rakes. 

A  young  woman  who  worked  at  the  convent  in 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  259 

Atuona,  near  me,  was  made  tapu  against  all  work. 
She  was  never  allowed  to  touch  food  until  it  had  been 
prepared  for  her.  If  she  broke  the  tapu  the  food  was 
thrown  away.  From  infancy,  when  a  taua  had  laid 
the  prohibition  upon  her,  she  lived  in  disagreeable  idle- 
ness, afraid  to  break  the  law  of  the  priest.  Only  in 
recent  years  did  the  nuns  laugh  away  her  fears,  and  set 
her  to  helping  in  their  kitchen.  She  told  me  that  she 
could  not  explain  the  reason  for  her  having  been  tapu 
from  effort,  as  the  taiui  had  died  who  chained  her,  with- 
out informing  her. 

If  a  child  crawled  under  a  house  in  the  building,  the 
house  was  burned.  If  I  were  building  a  boat,  and,  for 
dislike  of  me,  some  one  named  aloud  the  boat  after  my 
father,  I  destroyed  the  boat.  Blue  was  tapu  to  women 
in  Nuku-Hiva,  and  red,  too.  They  could  not  eat  bonito, 
squid,  popii,  and  koehi.  They  might  not  eat  bananas, 
cocoanuts,  fresh  breadfruit,  pigs  of  brown  color,  goats, 
fowls  and  other  edibles. 

Females  were  forbidden  to  climb  upon  the  sacred 
paepaes,  to  enter  the  men's  club-houses  (this  tapu  was 
enforced  in  America  until  the  last  few  years),  to  eat 
with  men,  to  smoke  inside  the  house,  to  carry  mats  on 
their  heads,  and,  saddest  of  all,  to  weep.  Children 
might  not  carry  one  another  pickaback.  The  kuavena 
fish  was  tapu  to  fishermen,  as  also  peata,  a  kind  of 
shark. 

To  throw  human  hair  upon  the  ground  was  strictly 
prohibited.  It  might  be  trodden  on,  and  bring  mischief 
upon  the  former  wearer.  So  the  chiefs  would  never 
walk  under  anything  that  might  be  trodden  on,  and 
aboard  ships  never  went  below  deck,  for  that  reason. 


260  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Perhaps  our  superstition  as  to  walking  under  ladders 
is  derived  from  such  a  tapw.  To  stretch  one's  hand 
or  ah  object  over  the  head  of  any  one  was  tapu.  There 
were  a  hundred  things  tapu  to  one  sex.  Men  had  the 
advantage  in  these  rules,  for  they  were  made  by  men. 

The  earthly  punishments  for  breaking  tapus  ran  from 
a  small  fine  to  death,  and  from  spoliation  to  ostracism 
and  banishment.  Though  there  were  many  arbitrary 
tapus,  the  whims  and  fantasies  of  chiefs,  or  the  wiles 
of  priests,  the  majority  of  them  had  their  beginning  in 
some  real  or  fancied  necessity  or  desirability.  Doubt- 
less they  were  distorted,  but,  like  circumcision  and  the 
Mosaic  barring  of  pork  to  the  Jews,  here  was  health  or 
safety  of  soul  or  body  concerned.  One  might  cite  the 
Ten  Commandments  as  very  old  tapu^. 

The  utter  disregard  for  the  tapus  of  the  Marquesans 
shown  by  the  whites  eventually  had  caused  them  to  fall 
into  general  disrepute.  They  degenerated  as  manners 
decayed  under  the  influx  of  barbarians  into  Rome,  as 
Greek  art  fell  before  the  corruption  of  the  people.  The 
Catholic,  who  bowed  his  head  and  struck  his  breast  at  the 
exaltation  of  the  host,  could  understand  the  veneration 
the  Marquesans  had  for  their  chief  tapus,  and  their  hor- 
ror at  the  conduct  of  the  rude  sailors  and  soldiers  who 
contemned  them.  But  when  they  saw  that  no  gods  re- 
venged themselves  upon  the  whites,  that  no  devil  de- 
voured their  vitals  when  they  ate  tapu  breadfruit  or 
fish  or  kicked  the  high  priest  from  the  temple,  the 
gentle  savages  made  up  their  minds  that  the  magic  had 
lost  its  potency.  So,  gradually,  though  to  some  people 
tapus  were  yet  very  sacred,  the  fabric  built  up  by  thou- 
sands of  years  of  an  increasingly  elaborate  system  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  261 

laws  and  rites,  melted  away  under*  the  breath  of  scorn. 
The  god  of  the  white  man  was  evidently  greater  than 
theirs.  Titihuti,  a  constant  attendent  of  the  Catholic 
church,  yet  treasured  a  score  of  tapus,  and  associated 
with  them  these  others,  the  dipping  of  holy  water  from 
the  henitier,  the  crossing  herself,  the  kneeling  and  stand- 
ing at  mass,  the  telling  of  her  beads,  and  the  kissing  of 
the  cross. 

The  abandonment  of  tapus  under  the  ridicule  and 
profanation  of  the  whites  relaxed  the  whole  intricate 
but  sustaining  Marquesan  economy.  Combined  with 
the  ending  of  the  power  of  chiefs  of  hereditary  caste, 
the  doing  away  with  tapus  as  laws  set  the  natives  hope- 
lessly adrift  on  an  uncharted  sea.  Right  and  wrong 
were  no  longer  right  or  wrong. 

This  fetish  system  was  very  aptly  called  a  plague  of 
sacredness. 

"Whoever  was  sacred  infested  everything  he  touched 
with  consecration  to  the  gods,  and  whatever  had  thus 
the  microbe  of  divinity  communicated  to  it  could  com- 
municate' it  to  other  things  and  persons,  and  render 
them  incapable  of  common  use  or  approach.  Not  till 
the  priest  had  removed  the  divine  element  by  ceremonies 
and  incantations  could  the  thing  or  person  become 
common  or  fit  for  human  use  or  approach  again." 

The  Marquesan  priests  strove  with  might  and  main 
to  extend  the  tapus,  for  they  meant  power  and  gain. 
Wise  and  strong  chiefs  generally  had  private  confer- 
ences with  the  priests  and  looked  to  it  that  tapus  did 
not  injure  them. 

Allied  with  tapuism  was  what  is  called  in  Hawaii 
hahunaism,  that  is  the  witchcraft  of  the  priests,  the 


262  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

old  wizards,  who  combined  with  the  imposing  and  lifting 
of  the  bans,  the  curing  or  killing  of  people  by  enchant- 
ment. Sorcery  or  spells  were  at  the  basis  of  most 
primitive  medicine.  At  its  best  it  was  hypnotism,  mes- 
merism, or  mind  power.  After  coming  through  thou- 
sands of  years  of  groping  in  physic  and  surgery,  we 
are  adopting  to  a  considerable  degree  the  methods  of  the 
ancient  priests,  the  theurgy,  laying  on  of  hands,  or  in- 
voking the  force  of  mind  over  matter,  or  stated  Christly 
methods  of  curing  the  sick.  In  Africa  witchcraft  or 
voodooism  attains  more  powers  than  ever  here,  but 
even  in  Polynesia  the  test  of  a  priest's  powers  was  his 
ability  to  kill  by  willing  it.  In  the  New  Zealand  witch- 
craft schools  no  man  was  graduated  until  he  could  make 
some  one  die  who  was  pointed  out  as  his  subject.  A 
belief  in  this  murderous  magic  is  shared  by  many  whites 
who  have  lived  long  in  Polynesia  or  New  Zealand.  It 
was  still  practised  here,  and  held  many  in  deadly  fear. 
The  victims  died  under  it  as  if  their  strength  ran  out 
like  water. 

The  most  resented  exclusion  against  women  in  the 
Marquesas,  and  one  of  the  last  to  be  broken,  was  from 
canoes.  Lying  Bill,  as  the  first  seaman  who  sailed  their 
ships  here,  had  met  shoals  of  women  swimming  out  miles 
to  the  vessel  as  it  made  for  port.  In  his  youth  they  did 
not  dare  enter  a  canoe  in  Hiva-Oa.  They  tied  their 
pareus  on  their  heads  and  swam  out,  clambered  aboard 
the  ships  miles  from  land  with  the  parens  still  dry. 

"They'd  jump  up  on  the  bulwarks,"  said  Lying  Bill, 
"an'  make  their  twilight  before  touchin'  the  deck.  The 
men  would  come  out  in  canoes  an'  find  the  women  had 
all  the  bloomin'  plunder." 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  263 

This  tapu,  most  important  to  the  men,  was  maintained 
until  a  Pankhurst  sprang  from  the  ranks  of  complain- 
ing but  inactive  women.  There  being  many  more  men, 
women  had  always  had  a  singular  sex  liberty,  but,  as  I 
have  said,  the  artful  men  had  invoked  rigid  tapus  to  keep 
them  from  all  water-craft.  The  females  might  have 
three  or  four  husbands,  might  outshine  an  Aspasia  in 
spell  of  pulchritude  and  collected  tribute,  and  the  por- 
tioned men  must  submit  for  passion's  sake,  but  when 
economics  had  concern,  the  pagan  priests  brought  orders 
directly  from  deity. 

The  dread  gods  of  the  High  Place,  the  demons  of 
the  Paepae  Tapu,  had  centuries  before  sealed  canoes 
against  women.  In  canoes  women  might  wander ;  they 
might  visit  other  bays  and  valleys,  even  other  islands, 
and  learn  of  the  men  of  other  tribes.  They  might  go 
about  and  fall  victims  to  the  enemies  of  the  race.  They 
might  assume  to  enter  the  Fae  Enata,  the  House  of 
Council,  which  was  on  a  detached  islet. 

And  they  certainly  would  catch  other  fish  than  those 
they  now  snared  from  rocks  or  hooked,  as  both  swam 
in  the  sea.  Fish  are  much  the  diet  of  the  Marquesans, 
and  were  propitiations  to  maid  and  wife — ^the  current 
coin  of  the  food  market.  To  withhold  fish  was  to  cause 
hunger.  The  men  alone  assumed  the  hazard  of  the  toss- 
ing canoe,  the  storms,  the  hot  eye  of  the  vertical  sun, 
and  the  devils  of  the  deep  who  grappled  with  the  fisher ; 
and  theirs  was  the  reward,  and  theirs  the  weapons  of 
control. 

But  there  were  always  women  who  grumbled,  women 
who  even  laughed  at  such  sacred  things,  and  women  who 
persisted.     Finally  the  very  altar  of  the   Forbidden 


264  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Height  was  shaken  by  their  madness.  How  and  what 
came  of  it  were  told  me  by  an  old  priest  or  sorcerer,  as 
we  sat  in  the  shade  of  the  great  banyan  on  the  beach 
and  waited  for  canoes  to  come  from  the  fishing. 

The  sorcerer  and  I  passed  the  ceremonial  pipe,  and 
his  words  were  slow,  as  becoming  age  and  a  severe  out- 
look on  life. 

"There  were  willful  women  who  would  destroy  the 
tapu  against  entering  canoes?"  I  asked,  to  urge  his 
speech. 

''E,  it  was  so!"  he  said. 

"Me  imm?    What  happened?"     I  queried  further. 

"A  long  time  this  went  on.  My  grandfather  told  me 
of  a  woman  who  talked  against  that  tapu  when  he  was  a 
boy." 

"And  she—?" 

"She  enraged  the  gods.  She  corrupted  even  men.  A 
council  was  held  of  the  wise  old  men,  and  the  words 
went  forth  from  it.  She  was  made  to  keep  within  her 
house,  and  a  tapu  against  her  made  it  forbidden  to  listen 
to  her  wildness.  In  each  period  another  woman  arose 
to  do  the  same,  and  more  were  corrupted.  Some  women 
stole  canoes  and  were  drowned.  The  sharks  even  hated 
them  for  their  wickedness.  We  pointed  out  what  fate 
had  befallen  them,  but  other  women  returned  boasting. 
We  slew  some  of  these.  But  still  it  went  on.  You 
know,  foreigner,  how  the  pokoko  enters  a  valley.  One 
coughs  and  then  another,  and  from  the  sea  to  the  peak 
of  Temetiu,  many  are  made  sick  by  the  evil.  It  was  so 
with  us,  and  that  revolt  against  religion." 

He  sighed  and  rubbed  his  stomach. 

"Is  it  not  time  they  came?"  he  asked. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  265 

"Epo,  by  and  by,"  I  answered.  "Why  did  you  men 
not  yield?     After  all,  what  did  it  really  matter?" 

'^O  te  Etna  el  The  gods  of  the  High  Place  forbade, 
for  the  women's  own  sake!"  he  said  indignantly,  and 
muttered  further. 

To  break  down  every  sacred  relation  of  centuries! 
To  shatter  the  tradition  of  ages  I  To  unsex  their  beloved 
mothers,  wives,  and  sisters  by  the  license  of  canoe  rid- 
ing! The  dangers  and  the  hardships  of  the  carven  tree 
were  to  be  spared  the  consolers  of  men's  labor  and  perils. 

"Did  the  gods  speak  out  plainly  and  severely?" 

The  taua  looked  at  me  quizzically.  Foreigners  mock 
holy  things  of  nature.  The  bishop  here  had  kicked  the 
graven  image  of  the  deity  of  the  cocoanut-tree. 

^^Eal  Po,  the  god  of  night,  who  rules  the  hereafter, 
spoke.  The  priest,  the  high  priest,  received  the  message. 
You  know  that  grove  by  the  Dark  Cave.  He  heard  the 
voice  from  the  black  recesses.  Tapu  haa,  it  said.  A 
double  tapu  against  any  woman  even  lifting  a  paddle, 
or  putting  one  toe,  or  her  heel,  or  her  shadow  within  a 
canoe.  All  the  women  were  not  wicked.  Many  be- 
lieved their  place  was  in  the  huaa,  the  home.  These  re- 
fused to  join  the  brazen  hussies,  the  deserters  of  the  po- 
poi  pit.  But  the  dance  was  dull,  and  there  was  strife. 
The  huona,  the  artists,  the  women  who  rejoice  men  when 
they  are  merry,  the  women  with  three  or  more  husbands, 
they  all  seemed  to  have  the  madness.  They  gained 
some  of  the  younger  men  to  their  side,  and  they  built 
that  long  house  by  those  breadfruit-trees.  They  held 
their  palaver  there,  and  they  refused  to  lie  under  their 
own  faa,  their  roofs  of  pandanus.  They  would  not 
dance  by  the  light  of  the  blazing  candlenuts  the  mad 


266  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

hura-hura,  nor  let  those  bravers  of  the  sea  share  their 
mats  on  the  paepae  of  the  valley.  Many  husbands 
fought  one  another  when  their  wife  did  not  return. 
The  tribe  grew  apart." 

He  sighed  and  took  a  shark's  tooth  from  his  loin- 
cloth, with  which  he  scraped  our  pipe. 

I  went  and  lay  where  the  curling  sea  caressed  my 
naked  feet.  I  was  within  easy  distance  of  the  tauas 
voice.  One  must  not  hurry  even  in  speech  in  these  Isles 
of  Leisure.  The  old  man  blew  through  the  bowl  and 
then  the  stem,  and,  taking  pieces  of  tobacco  from  his 
pareu,  he  packed  the  pipe  and  lit  it.  He  drew  a  long 
whiff  first,  as  one  pours  wine  first  in  one's  own  glass, 
and  handed  it  to  me. 

He  responded  when  I  put  the  pipe  again  between  his 
trembling  fingers. 

"The  gods  grew  weary.  Messages  but  few  came 
from  them.  Priests'  wives  even  ceased  to  cook  the 
breadfruit  on  the  hot  stones,  and  went  to  live  in  that 
accursed  haa  ite/' 

"We  esteem  such  a  long  house,  and  call  it  a  club," 
I  interposed  in  subconscious  defense  of  my  own  habits. 

^^Oti!  Maybe.  Your  island  forgot  wisdom  early. 
You  even  cook  your  fish.  We  will  make  the  fire 
now." 

I  rose  and  shook  off  the  warm  salt  water  from  my 
body.  My  pareu  of  blue  with  white  stars  was  on  a  de- 
scending branch  of  the  banyan.  I  put  it  about  my 
thighs  and  folded  it  for  holding.  Then  arm  in  arm  we 
walked  to  our  own  house  on  the  raised  paepae  of  great 
basalt  stones. 

I  heaped  the  dried  cocoanut  fiber  in  a  hollow  of  a 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  267 

rock,  and  about  it  set  the  polished  coral  of  our  kitchen. 
A  spark  from  the  pipe  set  it  afire,  and,  heaped  with 
more  fiber  and  wood  of  the  hibiscus,  before  long 
the  stones  blushed  with  the  heat,  and,  growing  redder 
yet,  were  ready  for  their  service. 

The  priest  of  old  had  withdrawn  to  make  a  sauce  of 
limes  and  seawater,  which  he  brought  out  within  the 
half-hour  from  the  penthouse  in  which  we  stored  our 
simple  goods.  It  was  in  a  tanoa  formerly  used  for 
kava,  a  trencher  of  the  false  ebony,  black  in  life,  but 
turned  by  the  years  of  decoction  of  the  mysterious 
narcotic  to  a  marvelous  green.  It  was  like  an  ancient 
bronze  in  the  open.  Here  we  were  both  ready  for  our 
delayed  food,  I,  beside  the  glowing  coral  stones,  the 
bones  of  once  living  organisms,  and  the  old  man,  with 
his  bowl  of  sauce.     But  the  food  tarried. 

He  fluttered  about  the  paepae  and  chewed  a  bit  of  the 
hibiscus  wood  to  stay  his  hunger.  In  the  breadfruit- 
grove  the  homdkoy  the  Marquesan  nightingale,  deceived 
by  a  lowering  cloud  or  perhaps  impelled  by  a  sudden 
passion,  was  early  pouring  his  soul  into  the  shadowy 
air.  I  tended  my  fire  and  wondered  at  man's  small 
relation  to  most  of  creation. 

"Go,  my  son,"  said  the  taua  impatiently,  "to  the  open- 
ing of  the  forest,  and  see  if  they  do  not  come  over  the 
waves  I" 

I  strolled  to  where  the  beach  met  the  jungle.  An 
outrigger  canoe  was  coming  through  the  surf.  A  faint 
shout  from  it  reached  me.  I  ran  back  to  him  where  he 
still  chewed  an  inedible  splinter. 

"Epo,**  I  said,  and  made  the  fire  fiercer.  He  stirred 
his  mitiaroa,  the  sauce,  and  watered  his  lips. 


268  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"How  was  the  tapu  broken  finally?"  I  asked,  casu- 
ally. 

"They  are  long  away,"  he  observed  with  his  eyes  on 
the  break  in  the  trees. 

"They  are  just  now  beaching  the  canoe,"  I  said  sooth- 
ingly. "We  will  eat  in  a  moment.  But  taua,  you 
leave  me  hungry  for  that  last  word. 

"The  women  of  Oomoa  tried  to  break  down  your  tapu 
of  time  immemorial  against  their  entering  canoes,  and 
there  was  trouble.  The  gods  were  against  them,  and 
yet  to-day — " 

"The  gods  got  tired,"  he  interrupted  me.  "The 
chiefs  became  afraid  of  the  continuous  hakapahi  i  te 
faufaUj  the  excitement  and  turmoil.  You  know  the 
chiefs  and  priests  decided  all  things.  Now  the  women 
cried  out  for  a  vaVdotina,  for  each  one  of  the  tribe  to 
lay  a  candlenut  in  one  of  two  popoi  troughs.  One  was 
assent  to  the  tapu^  and  the  other  against  it." 

There  was  argument  first,  said  the  taua.  After  the 
priests  had  called  down  the  curse  of  Po  and  other  gods 
of  might  on  all  who  would  invoke  a  popular  judgment 
of  a  sacred  and  time-webbed  commandment,  the  chiefs 
pictured  the  dangers  to  women  and  to  canoes,  to  the 
tribe  and  the  valley,  if  women  broke  loose  from  the 
centuried  bonds  that  forbade  canoeing.  Older  women 
and  some  younger  beauties,  the  latter  fearing  hurt  to 
their  prestige  by  less  luxurious  belles,  urged  the  in- 
violability of  the  tapu. 

The  women  of  the  Long  House,  the  rebels,  merely 
demanded  instant  casting  of  the  ama  nuts  into  the 
hoana.  He  himself,  the  taiui  said,  then  made  the  great 
error  of  his  life.     He  swiftly  counted  in  his  mind  those 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  269 

for  and  against,  and,  convinced  that  he  had  a  huge  ma- 
jority for  the  prevaihng  law  and  order,  shouted  out  that 
the  vavaotina,  though  long  disused,  was  just  and  truly 
Marquesan. 

The  troughs  were  brought  from  a  near-by  house  to 
the  beach,  and  the  trial  was  staged. 

"At  that  moment,"  said  the  old  priest,  "a  canoe  which 
had  been  cunningly  making  its  way  to  the  shore,  as  if 
by  a  prearranged  signal,  suddenly  took  the  breakers  and 
came  careening  upon  the  sand.  Out  of  it  stepped 
Taipi,  a  woman  of  that  red-headed  tribe  of  Tahuata, 
arranged  her  kilt  of  tapa,  and  advanced.  She  was  Hke 
an  apparition,  but  fatal  to  my  count.  She  was  a  moi 
hanahau,  beautiful  and  strong,  and  the  first  woman  who 
had  ever  come  except  as  a  prisoner  from  that  fierce 
island.  But  she  was  stronger  in  her  desires  than  any 
man.  She  was  unbelieving  and  unafraid  of  sacred 
things.  A  hundred  men  sprang  forward  to  greet 
Taipi.  American,  she  was  as  the  red  jasmine,  as  the 
fire  of  the  oven,  odorous  and  lovely,  but  hot  to  the  touch 
and  scorching  to  know.  That  woman  laughed  at  the 
men,  and,  as  if  word  had  been  sent  her,  took  her  place 
among  the  women.  She  seized  a  candlenut  and  threw 
it  exactly  into  the  unholy  hoana. 

"  'O  men  of  Oomoa,'  she  cried,  'so  you  fear  that 
women  may  paddle  faster  and  better  than  you!  Haame- 
tau  haef  You  are  cowards.  Look,  I  have  come  a 
night  and  a  day  alone,  and  no  shark  god  has  injured  me 
and  I  am  not  weary.' 

"There  followed  a  shower  of  candlenuts  into  the  de- 
mon trough,  as  the  stones  from  the  slings  in  battle. 
We  were  beaten,  as  youth  ever  defeats  age  when  new 


270  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

gods  are  powerful.  Our  day  and  the  power  of  all  tapus 
waned  and  ended  soon.  Once  in  the  canoes  those 
women  made  us  release  the  tapu  against  their  eating 
bananas  and,  later,  pig.  In  a  thousand  years  no  Mar- 
quesan  woman  had  tasted  a  banana  or  eaten  pig.  They 
were  for  the  men  and  there  were  good  reasons  known 
to  the  gods.  But  let  woman  leave  ever  so  little  way  the 
narrow  path  of  obedience  and  of  doing  without  things 
that  are  evil  for  her,  and  she  knows  no  limits.  She  is 
without  the  koehoe,  the  spirit  that  is  in  man.  The  race 
has  fallen  on  sorrow." 

He  sat  down  on  his  powerful  haunches  and  chanted 
an  improvisation  about  the  lost  splendor.  Low  and 
mournful,  the  psalm  of  a  Jeremiah,  his  deep  voice  rum- 
bled as  he  fixed  his  dark  eyes  on  the  great  globes  of  the 
breadfruit  hanging  by  the  plaited  roof  of  the  hut. 

And  through  an  opening  of  the  forest  came  the  two 
women  of  his  household.  Very  White  and  Eyes  of  the 
Great  Stars,  heavily  laden  with  their  morning's  catch 
of  fish.  They  came  tripping  over  the  green  carpet  of 
the  forest,  laughing  at  some  incident  of  their  fishing,  and 
threw  down  beside  him  the  strung  circles  of  shining  ika, 
large  and  brilliant  homto,  the  mackerel  of  brilliancy, 
and  the  maoo,  the  gay  and  gaudy  flying-fish. 

"Oh,  hoi  sorcerer,"  said  I.  "Did  ever  men  match 
with  the  cunning  of  these  scaly  ones  with  greater  luck? 
The  stones  are  ready  for  their  broiling." 

The  taua  made  a  wry  face  and  stirred  his  sauce.  He 
dipped  a  popo  into  it  and  ate  it  greedily,  bones  and  all. 

"E,  el"  he  said  and  spat  out  the  words.  "Fiaut 
The  women  catch  their  own  fish  now." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Story  of  the  wondrous  pearls  planted  in  the  lagoon  of  Pukapuka — 
Tepeva  a  Tepeva,  the  crippled  diver,  tells  it — How  a  European  scien- 
tist improved  on  nature — Tragedy  of  Patasy  and  Maurali — The 
robbed  coral  bank — Death  under  the  sea. 

IN  Mapuhi's  store,  on  the  counter,  taken  from  the 
cabin  of  the  Cou/nty  of  Roxburgh,  lay  twenty-five 
pearls.  They  were  of  different  values,  two  or  three 
magnificent  in  size,  in  shape,  and  in  luster,  the  fruit 
of  Mapuhi's  tribe's  harvest  in  Takaroa  Lagoon.  He 
displayed  them  to  me  and  others  the  night  before  I  was 
to  sail  with  Lying  Bill  for  the  Marquesas  Islands. 
Aaron  Mandel  was  about  to  buy  them,  and  as  the 
Parisian  dealer  and  Mapuhi  discussed  their  worth.  Bill, 
McHenry,  Kopcke,  Nimau,  and  others  added  their 
opinions. 

"If  you  paid  for  these  pearls  what  they  cost  in  suffer- 
ing, and  in  proportion  to  the  earnings  of  a  diver  in 
his  lifetime,  you  would  offer  me  ten  times  what  you  do," 
said  Mapuhi.  "The  white  women  who  wear  these  poe 
can  never  know  the  dangers  or  the  pain  endured  by 
our  people.  Two  have  aninia,  vertigo,  and  one  has 
been  made  permanently  deaf  this  rahui." 

"I  agree  with  you,"  replied  Mandel,  "that  nothing 
of  money  can  balance  what  you  Paumotuans  go  through 
to  gather  shells,  but  in  many  parts  of  the  world  divers 
of  other  races  are  doing  the  same.  They  don't  go  as 
deep  as  you  do,  because  their  waters  are  shallower,  but 

271 


272  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

they  fix  the  price  for  pearls.  I  have  seen  them  from 
Ceylon  to  Australia,  and  I  have  to  meet  their  compe- 
tition when  I  take  these  pearls  to  Paris  where  the 
market  is.  Also,  Mapuhi,  the  culture  pearl  is  every 
year  hurting  our  trade  more  and  more,  and  some  day 
may  make  pearls  so  cheap  that  you  will  get  a  third  of 
what  you  do  now.  You  remember  the  Taote  of 
Pukapuka.^' 

"That  was  the  devil's  magic,  tmd  it  will  not  be  again," 
said  Mapuhi.  "Man  who  loves  and  serves  the  true 
God  will  never  interfere  with  his  secrets,  but  will  accept 
what  he  offers  for  man's  struggles  and  torments.  The 
Taote  was  tempted  by  Satan,  and  his  sin  was  terribly 
punished." 

Mandel  smiled. 

"Yes  the  Taote  got  a  rough  deal,"  he  admitted. 
"But  his  pearls  made  another  man's  fortune,  and  as- 
tonished all  who  saw  them  in  Paris.  Let  me  tell  you! 
Last  year  I  visited  three  culture  fields,  and  they  are 
doing  wonderful  things.  The  Japanese  for  many  years 
only  copied  the  methods  of  the  Chinese.  They  forced 
the  fresh  water  mussel  and  the  abalone  to  coat  with  na- 
cre substances  they  inserted  within  their  folds,  but  they 
got  no  pearls  of  the  best  size,  shape,  or  luster.  Now, 
Kokichi  Mikimoto  has  gone  much  further  than  any- 
body. I  spent  a  week  with  him  at  his  pearl  farm  in  the 
bay  of  Ago  in  the  Inland  Sea  of  Japan.  The  bay  is 
a  dozen  miles  long  and  five  wide,  with  an  average  depth 
of  sixty  feet,  but  it  is  remarkably  free  from  currents 
and  severe  storms.  Mikimoto  is  a  scientist  as  was  the 
Taote,  He  opens  a  three-year-old  shell  and  lays  a 
bead  of  nacre  on  the  outer,  shell-secreting  skin  of  the 


From  the  painting  by  Oscar  F.  Schmidt 

A  young  palm  in  Atuona 


From  the  painting  by  Oscar  F.  Schmidt 

Atuona  valley  and  the  peak  of  Temetiu 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  273 

oyster.  This  skin  is  then  dissected  off  the  oyster  and 
fitted  about  the  bead  like  a  sac.  This  sac  is  then  trans- 
planted into  the  tissues  of  another  oyster  in  its  shell,  an 
astringent  is  sprinkled  on  the  wound,  and  the  second 
oyster  is  planted  in  the  prepared  bed  at  anywhere  from 
twenty-five  to  eighty  feet.  It  stays  there  from  three 
to  seven  years,  and  then  his  girl  diver  brings  it  up. 
Mind  you,  he  has  laid  down  suitable  rocks  in  certain 
shallow  places,  and  when  they  are  covered  with  oyster 
spat  they  are  removed  to  deeper  beds  and  set  out  in 
order.  It  is  these  which  are  dissected  at  three  years  of 
age,  and  the  nuclei  inserted  in  them.  These  beads  are 
of  all  colors,  mother-of-pearl  or  pink  or  blue  coral,  and 
the  pearls  are  of  the  color,  white  or  pink  or  blue,  of  the 
beads.  The  oysters  often  spit  them  out,  the  starfish 
and  octopus  ravage  the  beds,  and  the  red  current  some- 
times  spoils  everything  for  a  year.  They  have  similar 
farms  in  other  parts  of  Japan,  and  in  Australia  and 
Ceylon,  but  Mikimoto  has  done  most.  He  sells  mil- 
lions of  pearls  every  year.  Of  course  they  are  blisters 
and  so  not  orient  or  perfect,  ^because  the  bead  has 
touched  the  shell  while  growing,  and  has  not  remained 
in  the  folds  of  the  oyster.  But  I  am  afraid,  for  I  was 
told  a  few  months  ago  that  Mikimoto  and  others  were 
making  perfect  pearls.  If  they  do  they  will  ruin  the 
market." 

"You  can  tell  the  difference  between  natural  and 
culture  pearls  in  any  case?"  I  asked. 

''Mais  out!  If  you  cut  open  the  grafted  pearl  you 
find  the  center  a  bead  or  bit  of  coral,  but  in  the  true 
pearl  the  center  is  a  grain  of  sand,  or  a  hollow  formerly 
occupied   by  the  tapeworm  or  parasite.     Well,  you 


274  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  . 

won't  make  any  money  cutting  pearls  open,  so  we  use 
the  ultra-violet  ray.  Most  of  Mikimoto's  pearls  are 
about  as  big  as  French  peas,  and,  as  I  say,  lack  spheri- 
city because  of  attachment  to  the  inner  shells.  But, 
mind  you,  his  oysters  are  merely  the  avicule  or  wing- 
shelled  kind,  and  small.  Here  are  these  Paumotu  shells 
from  six  to  eighteen  inches  across  and  the  oysters  in  pro- 
portion. Think  of  what  they  might  do,  if  they  were  put 
to  work  by  science  and — " 

"They  were  once,"  broke  in  Kopcke.  "My  girl's 
father  knows  all  about  it." 

"I  know  much  about  it,  too,"  said  Mandel;  "and  I 
have  never  known  just  what  to  believe.  I  only  know 
that  some  one  sold  a  string  of  pearls  in  Paris  finer 
than  any  in  the  world,  and  they  are  now  in  New  York. 

"The  Empress  Eugenie's  necklabe  came  from  here, 
and  so  did  Queen  Victoria's  five-thousand-pound  pearl, 
but  these  were  said  to  be  finer." 

"For  heaven's  sake!"  I  exclaimed.  "Tell  me  what 
you  do  know  of  this  mysterious  Taote  and  his  tragedy. 
Mapuhi  has  put  the  devil  to  work  in  it.  I  have  been 
hearing  talk  about  it  since  I  landed  in  Tahiti." 

"Come  down  to  my  shack,"  said  Kopcke,  "and  I 
will  get  old  Tepeva  a  Tepeva  to  tell  you  his  part  of  it." 

"I  will  finish  with  Mapuhi,"  Mandel  said,  *'and  will 
be  along  in  ten  minutes." 

That  the  fixing  of  a  price  for  the  twenty-five  pearls 
was  not  to  be  concluded  in  public  was  evident,  and  so 
Kopcke,  Lying  Bill,  and  we  others  sauntered  to 
Kopcke's  hut.  Nowhere  do  whites  despise  one  an- 
other as  feelingly  as  in  the  South  Seas.  Their  compe- 
tition in  business  and  in  love  is  so  intimate  and  so  acute 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  275 

that  there  are  no  distances  nor  withholdings  of  emotion. 
The  finesse  and  impersonal  euchering  ot  rivals  practised 
on  mainlands  is  not  copied  in  this  hotter  and  more  prim- 
itive mart  where  adversaries  are  of  ruder  breed,  and 
courtesy  is  considered  weakness.  As  we  strolled  under 
the  palms  to  Kopcke's  house,  McHenry  said  to  me, 
"This  Taote,  this  doctor  or  magician  they  gab  about, 
I  knew  better  than  anybody  else,  an'  he  was  a  bloomin' 
queer  'un.  I  kept  a  store  at  Penrhyn  for  years,  and 
this  fellow  was  around  there  studyin'  the  lagoon. 
Everybody  called  him  Doc,  but  whether  he  was  a  M.  D. 
I  don't  know.  He  had  a  tool-chest,  though,  like  a 
/bloody  sawbones,  and  could  fix  a  cut  or  saw  off  an 
arm  fine.  He  had  michaelscropes  and  all  sorts  o'  pro- 
fessor junk,  an'  he  was  good-hearted,  and  had  money 
enough,  too." 

"I  remember  the  fellow  well,"  Lying  Bill  interposed. 
"  'E  was  a  han'some  man,  big  as  Landers,  and  dark  as 
Llewellyn.  'E  'ad  gold  'air,  but  never  wore  a  'at, 
blow  'igh,  blow  low,  an'  so  'is  'air  was  so  bleedin'  sun- 
burned, it  was  all  colors.  *E  was  a  furriner,  an*  'ad 
studied  in  Germany, — if  'e  was  n't  a  German, — ^though 
'e  was  a  reg'ler  poUyglut  and  parlayed  every  lingo.  'E 
'ad  a  'ole  chemist  shop  with  'im  on  Penrhyn.  I  used 
to  see  'im  treatin'  the  lepers  and  studyin'  oysters  night 
an*  day.  At  first,  I  thought  he  might  be  a  buyer,  an* 
watched  'im,  but  he  'ad  no  time  for  tradin'.  In  the 
divin'  season  'e  was  alwa,ys  around  the  lagoons,  an* 
*e  *d  look  at  every  pearl  and  the  shell  it  come  out  of. 
'E  was  a  myst'ry,  'e  was,  an'  made  no  friends  with  any- 
body. The  natives  called  'im  Itataupoo  Taote,  'Atless 
Doctor.     'E  played  a  deep  game,  'e  did." 


276  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

At  Kopcke's  shack  he  made  us  welcome.  Lamps 
were  lighted,  and  cigarettes  and  a  black  bottle  of  rum 
set  on  the  counter. 

"I  '11  go  and  hunt  up  the  old  man  to  spin  you  the 
yarn,"  said  Kopcke,  and  disappeared  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  outside.  Mandel  came  before  he  returned, 
and  as  the  talk  was  still  on  the  Taote  he  gathered  up 
his  thread  of  it. 

"This  magician's  name  was  Horace  Sassoon,  and  he 
was  of  a  rich  and  fine  family  in  England/'  said  Mandel. 
"I  knew  much  about  him  because  I  cashed  his  drafts 
more  than  once.  He  was  a  medical  doctor,  educated 
in  Germany,  France,  and  England,  and  he  had  been 
seven  or  eight  years  in  India.  While  in  Ceylon  or  the 
Arabian  Gulf  he  investigated  the  pearl  fisheries  and  got 
interested  in  the  processes  of  mother-of-pearl  secretion 
by  oysters.  I  think  he  was  a  real  savant,  and  that  he 
had  a  strong  interest  in  the  treatment  of  lepers  by  the 
chaulmoogra  oil  and  the  X-ray.  He  told  me  that  he 
wanted  to  endow  a  great  institution  in  India,  but  that 
he  was  unable  to  raise  the  funds.  Me,  I  am  credulous, 
but  I  believe  the  institution  was  a  beautiful  woman  who 
spent  much  money.  He  had  an  income  sent  from  Paris 
to  Tahiti,  and  the  drafts,  not  large,  came  through  my 
house.  I  would  meet  him,  as  you  men  did,  in  Papeete 
or  in  these  atolls,  or  Penrhyn,  wherever  there  was  diving, 
but  I  never  suspected  his  game,  though  three  or  four 
times  he  said  to  me,  *I  will  have  all  the  money  I  need 
some  day  if  I  am  right  in  my  theories.'  I  lost  track  of 
him,  and  did  not  associate  with  him  the  big  pearls  that 
came  to  Paris  until  I  saw  the  pearl  Woronick  bought, 
and  heard  Tepeva  a  Tepeva's  account.     I  won't  spoil 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  277 

it  by  repeating  it,  and  anyhow,  here  he  is  himself!" 

Kopcke  entered  with  his  girl  and  her  father.  The 
latter  was  a  very  big  man,  the  wreck  of  a  giant.  He 
was  sadly  afflicted;  he  would  take  a  step,  and  stop,  and 
then  his  head  would  roll  over  on  his  shoulder.  Each 
time  he  started  to  move,  he  went  through  convulsive 
tremors  as  if  winding  himself  up  for  the  next  step — and 
I  recognized  the  paralysis  which  seizes  the  diver  who 
has  dived  too  often  and  too  deep. 

"Maite  rii,  Tamahine!  Go  slow,  daughter!"  he  was 
saying,  as  he  seized  a  post  and  let  himself  down  to  the 
floor,  where  he  squatted. 

"He  was  about  the  best  diver  in  the  group,  but  the 
bends  have  got  him,"  said  Kopcke. 

"  'E  's  a  Mormon,"  Lying  Bill  blurted,  "an'  'e  won't 
touch  the  rum."  Bill  helped  himself,  stood  the  bottle 
before  him,  and  began  to  doze. 

"My  father,"  said  Kopcke,  "here  is  a  Marite  from  far 
across  the  sea,  who  wants  to  know  of  your  adventure 
with  the  Taote  who  gave  you  the  pearl." 

Tepeva  a  Tepeva  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and 
peered  at  me.  ''Oia  ia!  It  is  well!"  he  stuttered. 
His  eyes  fell  upon  the  bottle,  and  remained  fastened 
upon  it. 

"Would  not  Tepeva  a  Tepeva  wish  to  refresh  him- 
self?" I  said  quietly,  and  passed  the  bottle  to  the  crip- 
ple. He  took  it,  weighed  it,  removed  the  cork,  smelt  the 
contents,  and  poured  out  a  shellful, — a  third  of  a  pint, 
— ^tossed  it  off,  smacked  his  lips  as  if  it  were  cocoanut 
milk,  and  began  to  speak  more  freely. 

'^Ea,  that  ramu  is  good.  I  do  not  drink  it  as  a  Mor- 
mon but  because  I  am  weak.     It  is  mdkim,  this  thing  I 


278  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

tell  you.  It  is  stranger  than  the  stick  of  Moses  turn- 
ing into  a  sea-snake.  It  costs  me  dear,  as  you  see, 
though  it  paid  me  well.  I  am  as  I  am,  a  cracked  canoe, 
because  of  it.  But  I  have  my  house,  and  all  the  debts 
of  my  family  are  paid,  and  I  owe  Mapuhi  a  Mapuhi 
not  a  sou.  It  is  good  to  be  free.  I  was  a  diver  at 
Penrhyn  for  the  British  when  I  met  the  foreigner.  He, 
was  a  Taote.  He  said  that  he  was  trying  to  cure  the 
lepers.  He  had  a  wonderful  medicine.  He  did  not  let 
them  drink  it,  but  put  it  into  their  arms  through  a  pipe. 
But  also  he  watched  the  diving.  Doc,  they  called  him, 
and  he  never  covered  his  head.  But  no  man  said  Ita- 
taupoo  to  him.  He  was  no  man  to  laugh  at.  He  spat 
his  words  and  was  done,  but  he  would  mend  a  broken 
bone,  or  cure  a  coral  cut  or  the  wound  of  a  swordfish. 
He  looked  through  a  tube  with  a  glass  in  it  at  blood 
from  the  lepers,  and  at  pearls  and  oysters.  He  had 
lamps  that  made  a  light  like  the  blue  sky.  Through 
his  tube  the  water  from  our  wells  was  as  a  fish-pond. 
Hours  and  hours  he  watched  the  shells  being  opened, 
and  every  pearl  he  must  see,  and  the  shell  from  which 
it  came.  I  thought  he  searched  for  a  peari  to  charm 
the  leprosy.  All  through  the  rahui  he  stayed  in  Pen- 
rhyn. He  went  to  Tahiti  on  the  Pani.  I  was  on  the 
Pani,  and  much  we  talked  about  oysters  and  the  dif- 
ferent lagoons. 

"I  came  to  Takaroa,  my  home.  Months  afterward 
the  Taote  arrived  here  in  a  ten-ton  cutter.  He  had 
but  one  sailor,  a  Tahitian,  Terii.  They  lived  in  that 
house  over  there.  I  would  not  go  into  that  house 
now  for  ten  tons  of  shell.  It  is  ihoiho.  When  the 
moon  is  dark  a  spirit  dances  there,  the  spirit  of  Mauraii. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  279 

He  was  my  cousin,  and  the  Taote  hired  him  to  help 
the  other  man.  One  day  the  Taote  began  to  buy  pro- 
visions, a  great  quantity  which  were  stored  in  the  cut- 
ter with  other  big  boxes,  as  if  for  a  long  voyage.  They 
sailed  away,  Terii  and  Mauraii,  too.  'Nuku-Hiva 
will  see  me  next,*  said  the  Taote  to  us  all.  That  was 
a  lie,  but  I  did  not  know  it  then.  They  went  to  Puka- 
puka.  It  is  a  little  atoll,  toward  the  Marquesas,  and 
far  from  any  other  island.  Mauraii  had  dived  there, 
and  the  Taote  knew  that.  Five  moons  later  the  cutter 
sailed  into  this  lagoon.  Mauraii  was  with  the  Taote, 
but  Terii  was  not.  The  Taote  paid  Mauraii,  and  left 
in  the  cutter  with  another  sailor.  For  two  years 
Mauraii  lived  without  labor.  For  two  years  his  jaws 
remained  tight  as  the  jaws  of  the  pahua.  He  spoke 
well  of  the  Taote,  but  he  was  afraid.  When  I  asked 
him  more  about  Terii,  he  would  not  talk.  Terii  had 
eaten  poisonous  fish,  he  said  once.  He  had  trodden  on 
the  nohu,  he  said  another  time.  I  knew  Mauraii  had 
not  been  to  the  Marquesas.  He  was  a  Mormon,  Mau- 
raii, and  he  prayed  like  a  man  with  a  secret. 

"We  forget  soon,  and  it  was  four  years  when  Patasy 
came  in  the  Potii  Taaha,  his  own  cutter.  He  was  of 
Irelani,  and  drank  much  ramu.  The  cutter  was  leaky, 
and  Mauraii  worked  to  calk  the  seams.  Patasy  gave 
him  hardly  any  money,  but  food,  and  night  rum.  Mau- 
raii, with  rum  in  him,  would  now  make  many  words 
to  Patasy,  and  to  me.  He  spoke  of  a  secret  that  lay 
between  him  and  the  Taote.  He  spoke  of  an  oath  he 
had  sworn  on  the  book  of  Mormon  and  the  picture  of 
Birigahama  Younga.  He  spoke  of  something  at 
Pukapuka  that  was  growing  bigger  and  bigger.     The 


280  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Taote  was  in  his  native  land,  and  would  return  soon, 
and  they  would  both  be  very  rich.  Mauraii's  talk  was 
like  a  cloudy  day  that  does  not  let  one  see  far.  Some- 
times I  would  ask  him  about  Terii,  who  had  gone  with 
Mauraii,  and  who  had  not  come  back.  That  would  still 
his  big  word-making.  He  would  shake  a  little  then, 
all  over.  He  would  say:  *I  must  not  talk,  Tepeva 
a  Tepeva;  I  must  not  talk.'  But  with  more  rmn  he 
would  talk.  He  was  worried,  though.  He  stopped 
going  to  the  temple;  he  lived  on  Patasy's  cutter.  Often 
I  saw  him  lying  on  the  deck,  full  of  drink. 

"One  night  he  came  to  my  house  late.  His  heart 
was  very  heavy.  He  had  been  drinking  with  Patasy, 
and  he  had  done  something  wrong.  He  cursed  Patasy. 
He  said  that  Patasy  had  forced  him  to  do  evil — that  he, 
Mauraii,  had  taken  an  oath,  and  that  now,  this  night,  he 
had  broken  it.  It  would  bring  him  harm.  The  Taote 
was  coming  back  soon.  Mauraii  shook  when  he  said 
that,  shook  just  as  he  did  when  I  would  ask  him  what 
had  become  of  the  companion  who  had  gone  with  him  to 
Pukapuka  and  had  never  come  back. 

"E  mea  au!  I  am  not  the  man  to  search  the  heart 
of  a  brother  for  what  should  be  hidden.  But  having 
broken  his  oath  and  told  his  secret  to  Patasy,  I  thought 
it  right  he  should  tell  it  to  me.  But  he  would  say  no 
more.    And  he  sailed  away  alone  with  Patasy. 

"For  many  weeks  we  heard  nothing  more  of  Mauraii. 
Then  from  sailors  who  came  from  Tahiti  we  heard  that 
he  and  Patasy  had  returned  to  Papeete  in  a  month. 
Then  we  heard  that  Patasy  had  sold  his  cutter  and  had 
taken  steamship  away  to  his  own  country.  He  never 
came  back. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  281 

"Mauraii  stayed  in  Papeete.  Every  little  while  we 
heard  about  him.  He  had  much  money,  and  he  was 
drinking  all  day  in  the  Paris  rum  store,  and  dancing 
the  nights  with  the  Tahiti  Magadalenas  in  the  Cocoa- 
nut  House. 

"When  Mauraii  had  spent  all  his  money  the  French 
Government  brought  him  back  to  Takaroa,  and  he  was 
mad.  Something  had  broken  in  his  belly,  where  the 
thinking-parts  are.  He  would  sit  all  day,  looking  at 
the  lagoon  and  saying  nothing.  Never  did  he  say  any- 
thing. Sometimes  he  would  shake  all  over.  And  all 
the  time  his  back  was  bent  as  if  some  one  was  coming 
from  behind  to  strike  him. 

"It  was  a  long  time  after  this  that  the  Taote  returned, 
on  the  Moana.  He  came  first  to  my  house.  He  asked 
me  where  Mauraii  was,  and  I  told  him  Mauraii  was 
here,  but  was  maamaa,  that  he  was  possessed  of  the 
demon.  He  asked  me  if  it  was  a  talking  demon,  if  it 
made  Mauraii  say  everything  there  was  in  his  head.  I 
told  him  it  was  the  other  way.  The  poor  man  said 
nothing,  but  sat  by  the  lagoon  all  day,  and  was  fed  and 
cared  for  by  the  women. 

"  'Let  us  go  to  see  Mauraii !'  he  said.  He  was  angry, 
and  I  was  afraid,  and  I  went  with  him.  I  knew  where 
Mauraii  would  be,  and  I  pointed  him  out.  He  was 
sitting  in  the  shade  of  a  purau  tree,  looking  at  the  la- 
goon. The  Taote  went  to  him  and  spoke  to  him. 
Mauraii  fell  flat,  and  then  he  crawled  about  the  sand, 
and  shouted  to  me  not  to  let  the  Taote  kill  him,  too. 
This  made  him  more  angry,  and  he  said  that  Mauraii 
was  really  maamaa,  and  that  nothing  could  be  done 
for  him.     Mauraii  ran  to  his  house  when  he  had  turned 


282  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

his  back.  After  the  Moana  had  gone  on  her  way  to 
Nuku-Hiva,  the  Taote  asked  me  if  I  could  go  with  him 
to  another  island.  I  did  not  want  to  go.  If  I  had  not 
gone,  I  would  not  be  as  I  am,  but  then  I  would  not  have 
my  house,  and  all  the  debts  paid  of  my  family. 

"I  said  that  I  had  work  here.  But  he  said  he  would 
be  gone  but  a  couple  of  weeks,  and  that  he  would  give 
me  ten  taras  a  day,  and  that  I  would  have  no  hard  work. 
Mapuhi  and  Nohea  were  absent.  No  white  elders  were 
here  to  advise  me.  Finally  I  said  I  would  go,  though 
when  I  looked  at  Mauraii  and  saw  what  he  was,  I  was 
afraid.  He  said  we  must  take  Mauraii  with  us.  We 
had  hard  work  to  get  Mauraii  on  the  cutter.  When 
we  did,  which  was  at  night,  we  put  him  in  the  hold  and 
closed  the  hatch  and  sailed  out  of  the  pass.  It  was  my 
own  cutter,  but  the  Taote  had  provided  food,  and  his 
big  boxes  were  in  the  hold  with  Mauraii. 

"Once  outside  the  reef,  the  Taote  said  he  would  go 
almost  due  east,  and  that  Pukapuka  was  our  island. 
I  said  that  Pukapuka  had  no  people  on  it,  and  he  said 
that  was  true.  I  said  that  Pukapuka  was  closed  to  the 
diving,  and  he  said  that  was  true.  But  we  went  on 
toward  Pukapuka.  When  we  slid  the  cover  off  the 
hatch  to  the  hold,  Mauraii  came  up,  and  when  he  saw 
we  were  at  sea  and  that  the  Taote  was  so  near  him,  he 
shivered  like  a  diver  who  has  had  a  struggle  with  a  shark. 
I  thought  he  would  leap  into  the  water,  and  often  he 
looked  at  it  with  longing.  But  the  Taote  talked  to  him 
strongly,  and  put  medicine  in  his  arm. 

"We  steered  and  trimmed  sail  by  turn.  The  wind 
was  fair,  and  we  reached  Pukapuka  in  five  days.  We 
had  a  hard  time  to  get  the  boxes  ashore.     There  is  no 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  283 

pass,  and  you  cannot  reach  the  lagoon  from  the  sea. 
We  had  brought  a  small  boat  lashed  on  the  deck,  and 
this  we  carried  to  the  lagoon.  It  took  us  a  day  to 
move  it,  and  we  made  Mauraii  help.  The  man  had 
changed  since  we  landed  on  Pukapuka.  He  was  not 
wild,  but  taata  ravea  paari.  He  was  cunning.  He 
smiled  to  himself  sometimes  in  an  evil  way.  We  were 
no  sooner  on  the  lagoon  than  the  Taote  ordered  me  and 
that  madman  to  build  a  hut  and  to  rest  ourselves  for 
a  day. 

"Pukapuka  had  not  a  man  upon  it.  It  is  lite  a  cocoa- 
nut-shell,  round  all  about,  and  the  lagoon  deep,  and 
full  of  yellow  shell  with  yellow  pearls.  There  are  no 
poison  fish  in  the  water,  as  in  some  other  islands.  I 
thought  of  that,  and  of  the  man  who  had  been  here  with 
Mauraii  and  had  never  come  back.  I  was  afraid.  The 
Taote  could  make  Mauraii  sleep  and  sleep  with  one 
touch  of  a  silver  pipe  on  his  arm.     I  was  afraid. 

"The  island  is  loved  by  the  birds;  it  was  their  time 
for  nesting,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  them.  That 
was  the  only  sound.  The  Taote  wore  no  hat,  though 
the  sun  upon  the  coral  was  as  stones  heated  to  cook  fish. 
When  we  had  rested  a  day,  the  Taote^  who  had  been 
most  of  the  hours  upon  the  lagoon,  spoke  to  me  of  our 
mission,  and  we  three  rowed  a  little  distance  until  I 
judged  we  were  in  water  of  seventeen  fathoms. 

"  *It  is  long,'  said  the  Taote.  'It  is  five  years  since 
I  was  here,  but  I  am  sure  of  the  spot.  There  was  a 
cocoanut-tree  that  hid  the  village  if  I  rowed  from  that 
rock  we  put  there  on  shore,  due  west,  five  umi.  There 
is  the  cocoanut,  and  it  hides  the  huts  the  divers  live  in 
when  the  lagoon  is  open.' 


284  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"You  see  how  quiet  this  lagoon  is?  Well,  that  lagoon 
of  Pukapuka  was  ten  times  more  still.  It  made  me 
shake  as  had  Mauraii.  But  now  he  did  not  shake.  He 
was  all  brightness,  and  his  eyes  were  shining,  though 
he  said  not  a  word. 

"The  Taote  took  the  titea  mata  and  looked  into  the 
water.  He  could  see  little;  his  eyes  were  not  strong. 
I  went  into  the  water,  took  the  titea  mata,  stuck  my 
head  into  it  and  gazed  down  into  the  sea. 

"  'Do  you  see  shell,  large  shell?'  he  asked  quickly, 
like  a  man  who  knows  what  is  in  a  place. 

"  'I  see  shell,'  I  said. 

"  *Then  dive  and  bring  it  up,*  he  commanded. 

"I  said  the  prayer  to  Adam  and  to  Birigahama 
Younga.  I  breathed  long,  and  I  went  down.  There 
was  in  my  heart  a  fear  of  something  strange.  The 
bottom  was  at  seventeen  fathoms,  a  jungle  of  coral  as 
big  as  the  trees  in  Tahiti,  with  black  caves  and  large 
flowers  and  sponges,  and  also  many  of  the  pahua,  the 
great  shell  which  closes  like  a  trap  and  can  drown  a 
man.  Dropping  straightaway,  I  swam  upon  a  ledge 
raised  above  the  floor  of  the  lagoon.  There  was  a  pair 
of  shells,  very  large.  But  where  there  had  been  many, 
only  this  single  pair  remained.  I  moved  along  the 
ledge,  and  found  that  scores  had  been  ripped  from  the 
same  bed.     A  diver  sees  easily  where  shells  have  been. 

"  'Robbed!'  I  said  to  myself.  'There  has  been  a 
thief  here.'  Pukapuka  had  been  closed  to  diving  for 
six  years,  and  it  was  forbidden  to  remove  a  shell.  I 
swam  over  the  face  of  the  ledge,  and  was  sure  I  had 
the  sole  remaining  pair  of  this  bed.  I  rose  to  the  sur- 
face with  them. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  285 

The  Taote  was  hanging  over  the  boat  with  his  head 
in  the  titea  mat  a,  watching  me  as  I  came  up.  As  I 
hung  on  the  boat  to  breathe,  I  saw  Mauraii  regarding 
him  with  a  hateful  eye,  and  I  shook  my  fist  at  the  fool. 
The  foreigner  took  the  shell  quickly,  and  opened  it, 
pulled  the  oyster  out  into  a  bowl,  and  searched  it. 
Then  with  a  little  cry  he  held  up  a  pearl,  a  poe  matamui, 
big  and  like  a  ball,  as  shiny  as  an  eye.  Bigger  it  was 
than  any  pearl  I  have  ever  seen.  It  was  perfect  in 
shape,  and  with  a  skin  like  the  gleam  of  the  sun  on  the 
lagoon.  What  Mauraii  had  said  of  the  Taote  growing 
things  to  make  him  rich  came  to  my  mind,  as  I  saw  this 
wonder-pearl  shining  in  the  Taote's  hand.  The  for- 
eigner for  a  moment  was  as  mad  as  Mauraii,  and,  taking 
hold  of  that  man's  hand,  shook  it  and  shook  it. 

"  *Ah,  Mauraii,'  he  shouted,  'now  we  are  paid  for 
those  weeks  of  hell  here!  You  shall  have  enough  to 
eat  and  drink  always.' 

"He  laughed  and  clapped  Mauraii  on  the  shoulder, 
and  the  maamaa  laughed  foolishly,  and  began  to  dance 
in  the  boat.  We  had  to  pull  him  down,  or  he  would 
have  overturned  it.  ' ;   J 

"  'There  are  more  than  a  hundred  pearls  like  that,' 
said  the  Taote.  'I  am  richer  than  King  Mapuhi,  ten 
times  as  rich,  and  I  can  make  all  I  want.  I  made  it. 
I  worked  and  worked  to  find  out,  and  Mauraii  put  the 
things  in  the  shell.     I  am  a  te  Tumu!* 

"I  did  not  like  that.  Te  Tumu  is  the  creator.  It 
is  wrong  to  boast  like  that.  And  where  was  Terii,  who 
had  gone  with  Mauraii  from  Takaroa  to  Pukapuka? 
He  would  share  in  no  wealth.  And  the  madman  beside 
me — what  happiness  left  for  him? 


286  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"  *Z  teienei/  said  the  Taote,  as  he  rubbed  the  pearl. 
'Go  down  and  bring  up  as  many  as  you  can.  When 
we  did  the  sowing,  I  worked  in  a  diver's  dress.  I  have 
that  machine  in  those  boxes  on  the  cutter.  Maybe  we 
should  get  it,  for  we  will  want  more  seed/ 

"  'There  are  no  more  shells  in  that  bed,'  I  said.  'This 
was  the  only  one  there.' 

"  'No  more  shells  there !'  he  screamed.  'You  are  mad 
like  this  fellow.  We  found  a  hundred  and  seven  there, 
and  we  planted  seed  in  each  one.  Each  of  them  has  a 
pearl  as  fine  as  this.' 

"He  tried  to  be  gentle  again,  though  he  sweated.  He 
tried  to  explain.  He  had  discovered  the  secret  of  the 
pearl;  he  had  planted  something  in  each  shell  as  one 
might  a  cocoanut-sprout  in  the  earth.  There  was  much 
I  did  not  understand,  for  no  man  had  ever  tried  such 
blasphemy.  The  God  that  made  these  lagoons  had 
wrapped  them  in  the  unknown,  and  had  made  pearls 
the  dispensation  of  His  will. 

"  'Whatever  was  done  here  by  you,'  I  said,  'there  are 
no  more  shells  in  that  tiamaha.     I  searched  it  all  about.' 

"He  tried  to  laugh,  but  failed,  and  he  looked  at 
Mauraii. 

"  'A  hundred  and  seven  shells !  It  took  us  weeks,* 
he  said.     'That  was  the  number,  Mauraii?' 

"The  man  possessed  of  the  devil  nodded  his  head  and 
really  laughed.     It  was  an  evil  laugh. 

"  'A  hundred  and  seven,  and  one — this  one — ^makes 
a  hundred  and  six,'  said  he.  He  smiled,  and  I  went 
cold.  I  knew  that  before  he  went  mad,  Mauraii  did 
not  know  how  to  count.     The  devil  was  in  him. 

"The  Taote  breathed  hard.     'Tepeva  a  Tepeva,'  he 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  287 

said,  *go  down  again.  It  is  possible  that  this  is  not  the 
bed.  We  placed  a  small  anchor  beside  it.  Look  for 
that.     I  worked  seventeen  years  for  this  day.' 

"Again  I  went  into  the  water,  and  to  the  bottom. 
I  found  the  place  where  I  had  pried  off  the  oyster  with 
the  great  pearl.  Digging  in  the  sand  and  ooze,  I  found 
the  anchor.  I  saw  plainly  the  empty  cups  of  the 
oysters  that  had  been,  and  I  counted  them  roughly  and 
made  them  about  a  hundred.  I  stayed  a  full  minute 
and  a  half,  and  I  hated  to  go  up.  I  did  not  like  to 
meet  that  wise  man  looking  at  me  in  a  terrible  way 
when  he  should  see  me  empty-handed.  But  I  had  to 
go.  I  was  exhausted  when  I  reached  the  sunlight,  and 
until  I  had  gained  my  breath  and  my  blood  was  quiet, 
I  did  not  turn  to  the  Taote. 

"  'No  more  shell?'  he  said  quietly.  'You  are  lying! 
You  are  lying!  You  are  trying  to  cheat  me.  Look 
out!  Look  out!  Ask  Mauraii  what  I  did  to — but  the 
shell  are  there.  I  can  see  them  with  the  glass.  Come, 
we  will  get  the  diving-machine.' 

"He  cursed  me,  and  said  I  was  trying  to  steal  his 
wealth.  What  he  saw  through  the  titea  mata  was  the 
gleam  of  the  pdhua,  the  great  shell  the  priests  use  for 
holy  water.  I  said  no  more,  and  with  Mauraii  went  to 
the  beach.  It  was  night  when  we  had  brought  the 
machine  to  the  boat,  and  we  returned  to  the  cutter  for 
food.  I  shall  not  forget  that  night.  The  foreigner 
could  not  sleep,  and  he  talked  to  me.  He  talked  as  if  he 
had  a  fever.  He  said  he  had  tried  for  years  to  find  out 
what  made  pearls  in  oysters,  and  to  do  the  work  of  God. 
While  others  had  made  small  ones  that  clung  to  the 
shell,  he  alone  had  found  the  way  to  put  in  the  shells 


288  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

large  beginnings  for  the  oysters  to  cover.  He  had 
chosen  Pukapuka  because  it  had  a  lagoon  without  a 
pass,  and  so  free  from  currents,  and  because  it  was 
closed  to  diving  and  no  one  lived  there.  No  one  knew 
of  it,  he  said — no  one  but  himself  and  Mauraii. 

"I  thought  of  Patasy,  of  the  'Potii  Taaha.'  Of 
what  Mauraii  had  told  me  when  in  rum.  Of  his  going 
away  with  Patasy  and  coming  back  to  Tahiti,  there  to 
drink  and  dance  in  the  Cocoanut  House. 

"But  I  said  nothing,  for  I  was  afraid.  Mauraii  had 
slept  ashore.  In  the  morning  we  found  him  praying 
and  singing  by  the  lagoon.  We  went  out  in  the  boat, 
and  set  up  the  diving-machine,  and  the  Taote  told  me 
to  put  on  the  dress. 

"  *I  and  Mauraii  will  work  the  pump,'  he  said.  *  You 
stay  down  ten  minutes  at  least,  and  search  the  bottom 
all  about  there.  Maybe  we  were  mistaken  in  the  exact 
spot.'     He  spoke  like  a  good  friend,  now. 

"I  had  said  nothing  about  the  anchor,  because  I  was 
afraid.  I  sank  down  to  the  bottom,  and  first  looked 
that  the  air  came  freely  and  that  I  was  not  entangled. 
Then  I  walked  about  and  saw  that  a  diver  had  been 
there.  The  whole  bank  had  been  gathered.  The  one 
shell  had  escaped  merely  because  the  thief  had  so  willed 
it.  I  sat  down  and  waited  for  the  ten  minutes  to  go, 
and  I  wished  I  was  in  Takaroa.  Pukapuka  Lagoon 
had  many  sharks.  In  the  years  that  had  passed  since 
the  last  diving  season  they  had  grown  big.  When  I 
was  still,  they  came  by  me,  and  through  the  glasses  I 
saw  their  ugly  faces  staring  at  me.  I  frightened  them 
away  with  the  air  from  my  wrist,  or  I  clapped  my  hands 
in  a  diver's  way.     I  had  my  back  to  the  rock  bank. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  289 

At  last  a  signal  came  on  the  rope,  and  I  had  to  let  them 
pull  me  up." 

Tepeva  a  Tepeva*s  voice  was  weak.  He  poured  him- 
self the  last  drink  of  rum.  Kopcke  had  gone  to  at- 
tend to  the  loading  and  Lying  Bill  was  snoring  on  the 
floor. 

"Slowly  they  lifted  me,  but  it  seemed  to  me  like  a 
second. 

"What  look  the  Taote  had,  I  do  not  know.  I  did 
not  turn  to  him  until  my  helmet  was  unscrewed,  and 
I  had  taken  off  the  coat.  Without  meeting  his  eyes,  I 
said,  'No  shells.' 

"*No  shells!  My  God!'  he  said.  'Are  you  bHnd? 
Did  you  not  the  first  time  bring  up  this?  Mauraii 
knows  well  there  are  a  hundred  and  six  more.  Is  not 
that  true,  Mauraii?'  he  said,  coaxingly. 

"The  madman  laughed.  'A  hundred  and  six  more,' 
he  replied;  'and  to  hell  with  Patasy.' 

"This  moment  the  eyes  of  the  Taote  met  me.  He 
was  shivering,  as  Mauraii  had  shivered  when  he  left 
Takaroa. 

"  'Give  me  the  helmet !'  he  ordered.  'Help  me  put  it 
on.     I  will  know.     I  will  know!' 

"He  put  the  pearl  in  a  purse,  and  the  purse  in  la 
pocket  of  the  diving-coat.  A  knife  was  in  his  belt.  I 
fastened  the  coat  and  the  belt  and  tied  the  strings  at  the 
wrist.  I  put  the  lead  weights  on  his  breast  and  back, 
and  lowered  him  into  the  water.  Before  I  screwed  the 
helmet  tight,  I  said  to  him:  'Go  slowly!  Walk  care- 
fully!   Don't  bend  too  low!* 

"Mauraii  fed  the  pump  as  I  let  out  the  line,  and  when 
I  felt  the  weight  of  the  line,  I  took  the  pump  myself. 


290  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Now,  a  man  like  me,  who  has  dived  with  the  machine 
for  years,  knows  every  motion  of  the  line. 

The  Taote  was  not  moving  slowly  and  cautiously. 
He  stopped,  and  f  onfive  minutes  there  was  little  motion. 

''AueoT  I  thought.  He  has  found  the  robbed  bank, 
and  the  anchor.  He  knows  the  truth.  He  will  come 
up  now.     What  will  I  do?     He  will  be  terrible. 

"Suddenly  I  felt  a  drag  at  the  rope,  swift  and  hard; 
not  the  steady  pull  of  walking. 

"He  has  fallen,  tripped  and  fallen,  and  cannot  get 
up!     That  was  my  thought. 

"  'Mauraii,'  I  said,  'you  man  the  pump  alone.  Go 
smoothly  I     If  you  fail,  I  will  kill  you!' 

"I  leaped  in,  and  swam  straight  down.  The  for- 
eigner was  on  the  bottom,  lying  on  his  face.  I  raised 
his  body,  light  as  a  shell  in  that  depth.  There  was  a 
great  rip  in  the  front  of  the  coat.  The  air  rushed  from 
it,  but  there  was  no  motion  of  his  body.  The  knife  in 
his  hand  had  been  used  to  destroy  himself.  He  had 
seen  the  work  of  the  thief  and  had  cut  open  the  coat. 
The  devil  of  despair  had  done  that  with  him. 

"A  diver  thinks  quickly.  I  could  not  bring  him  to 
the  top  unless  Mauraii  aided.  I  signaled  by  the  rope. 
There  was  no  reply.  The  air  was  not  being  pumped. 
It  had  stopped  as  I  lifted  him.  Mauraii  had  left  his 
duty.  I  had  one  chance.  I  might  unscrew  the  heavy 
helmet,  and  cut  the  leads  and  carry  him,  with  the  aid  of 
the  line,  to  the  surface.  He  might  not  be  dead  yet.  I 
seized  the  helmet,  cut  the  hose,  and  began  to  turn  the 
metal  helmet.  As  I  did  so,  I  saw  a  shadow  over  my 
head,  and  laid  hold  of  my  knife.  It  was  not  a  shark. 
It  was  Mauraii.     He  was  dancing  and  smiling,  dancing 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  291 

and  smiling,  as  in  the  Cocoanut  House  in  Papeete.  He 
slowly  settled  down  in  the  water.  He  took  hold  of  me 
as  I  twisted  at  the  helmet,  and  he  smiled  at  me,  and 
danced  on  a  ledge  of  coral.  Below  this,  I  saw  one 
of  those  giant  pahua.  Aue!  Marite!  This  pair  was 
as  long  as  I  am,  and  as  deep  as  my  legs.  The  great 
animal  in  it  had  opened  his  doors  to  eat,  and  as  Mauraii 
leaped  about  in  his  mad  dancing  from  rock  to  rock,  he 
stepped  into  the  jaws  of  the  pahua.  Aue!  They 
closed  as  the  jaws  of  the  turtle  upon  the  fish,  and  held 
the  fool  as  if  he  was  buried.  He  was  fast  to  the  knees, 
and  fell  over  upon  me  as  I  worked  at  the  helmet,  his 
head  hanging  down  by  my  feet. 

"My  lungs  were  bursting,  my  heart  beating  my  breast. 
I  had  been  more  than  three  minutes  a  hundred  feet  be- 
low the  air.  I  had  been  using  my  strength.  I  pushed 
the  fool  away.  Suddenly  I  felt  my  leg  seized,  and  the 
grip  of  teeth  upon  my  flesh.  I  sprang  up,  pulling  at 
the  rope  to  give  me  force,  and  calling  on  Adam  for  help. 

"Minutes  it  was  before  I  could  crawl  into  the  boat. 
I  lay  there  many  minutes  before  I  could  stand  up.  The 
blood  was  upon  my  leg,  and  the  marks  of  teeth.  They 
were  not  the  teeth  of  a  fish,  but  of  a  man.  I  prayed  for 
guidance.  The  Taote  was  dead,  and  Mauraii,  too. 
What  could  I  do  for  them?  Nothing!  Yet  I  heard 
a  whisper  in  my  ear  to  go  down.  I  slipped  into  the 
water  and  swam  to  the  bottom.  I  never  touched  the 
sand.  I  saw  the  bodies  of  the  Taote  and  Mauraii 
fought  over  by  a  dozen  sharks.  I  had  prayed,  and  I 
had  a  knife  in  my  hand.  Even  a  shark  fears  a  bold  man. 
I  struck  at  them  right  and  left  and  reached  the  ledge 
where  the  Taote  lay.    I  slashed  at  the  coat  and  cut 


292  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

away  the  pocket.  The  water  was  red  with  blood  about 
me,  but  I  shot  up  past  the  sharks  with  the  purse,  and 
reached  the  boat.  I  took  the  oars  and  rowed  as  fast 
as  I  could  to  shore.  There  I  knelt  and  thanked  Adam 
and  letu  Kirito  for  my  life. 

"I  ran  across  the  reef  and  swam  to  the  cutter.  I  cut 
away  the  anchor  and  raised  the  sail  and  left  the  abode 
of  the  demon.  Fakaina  I  reached  in  two  days;  and, 
with  a  Takaroa  man  who  was  thene,  I  put  the  cutter 
about  and  sailed  for  home. 

"What  does  the  Book  say?  In  the  midst  of  life  we 
are  in  death.  I  had  stayed  under  too  long  in  the  lagoon 
of  Pukapuka.  Like  a  thunderbolt  came  on  me  the 
diver's  sickness — and  I  am  as  I  am." 

Lying  Bill  had  been  awake  for  several  minutes. 

"You  did  mighty  well,"  he  commented.  "You  saved 
the  pearl  and  the  Doc's  money  for  yourself.  There  's 
three  men  et  up  by  sharks.  You  sold  the  pearl  to  Wor- 
onick  for  twenty-five  thousand  francs.  .  .  .  And  by  the 
bloody  star  of  Mars,  you  've  drunk  all  the  rum  while 
I  've  been  asleep!  Come  on,  O'Brien!  Let 's  get  the 
bloomin'  'ell  out  of  'ere  to  the  schooner!  We  've  got  to 
sail  at  sun-up  for  the  Marquesas." 

Tepeva  a  Tepeva,  the  man  stricken  by  the  bends,  was 
still  squatting  on  the  floor  immersed  in  his  pregnant 
memories  when  I  shook  his  hand,  and  went  to  bid  good- 
by  to  my  friends  of  the  atolls  where  life  is  harder  but 
simpler  and  sweeter  than  elsewhere  in  the  world. 
Mapuhi  and  Nohea  rubbed  my  back,  and  commended 
me  to  God.  The  wind  was  fluttering  wildly  the  fronds 
of  the  cocoanut-trees,  and  the  surf  was  heavy  as  we 
rowed  through  the  passage  and  moat  and  struck  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  293 

breakers  on  the  outer  reef.  From  the  sea  for  a  few 
minutes  the  lanterns  in  the  houses  were  like  fireflies  in 
the  cane,  but  soon  the  darkness  hid  them,  and  I  saw  only 
the  black  shadow  of  the  motus,  and  the  gleam  of  the 
foaming  crests  of  the  waves  in  the  faint  starlight.  I 
lay  down  on  a  mat  by  the  steering-wheel  of  the  Fetia 
Taiao,  and  dreamed  of  the  Taote  and  the  dancing 
Maurai  in  the  trap  of  the  giant  pahua. 

I  awoke  with  the  cries  of  the  sailors  raising  the  main- 
sail, and  the  motion  of  the  vessel  through  the  water. 
We  were  off  with  a  fair  wind  for  the  Land  of  the  War 
Fleet. 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  dismal  abode  of  the  Peyrals — Sdltark-white  daughter  of  Peyral — Only 
wlfite  maiden  in  the  Marquesas — I  hunt  wild  bulls — Peyral's  friend- 
liness— I  vi^t  his  house — He  strikes  me  and  threatens  to  kill  me — I 
go  armed — Explanation  of  the  bizarre  tragi  comedy. 

AS  I  walked  up  from  the  beach  of  Atuona,  where 
I  had  touched  the  shore  of  the  Marquesas  for 
the  first  time,  I  had  remarked  a  European 
dwelHng,  squalid,  forbidding  and  peculiarly  desolate. 
Painted  black  originally,  the  heat  and  storms  of  years 
had  worn  and  defaced  it,  the  sun  had  shrunk  the  boards 
from  one  another,  and  posts  and  beams  had  gone  awry. 
It  was  set  in  a  cocoanut-grove,  the  trees  so  close  to- 
gether that  their  huge  fronds  joined  and  roofed  out  sky 
and  light.  The  narrow  road  along  the  grove  had  been 
raised  later,  and  formed  a  dike  so  that  with  the  heavy 
rains  of  the  season  the  land  all  about  was  a  gloomy 
marsh  to  which  the  sun  seldom  penetrated.  The  dingy 
gallery  of  the  house  fronting  the  road  had  a  broken  rail 
and  dilapidated  stairs,  and  in  the  shallow  swamp  and 
about  the  entrance  were  cast-off  articles  of  household 
and  plantation.  A  dismaying  mingling  of  decayed 
European  inventions  with  native  bareness  framed  a  dis- 
mal and  foreboding  scene,  contrasting  with  the  bril- 
liancy of  nature  in  the  open. 

I  had  felt  a  sudden  fear  of  the  possibilities  of  degra- 
dation, as  if  the  dreary  house  were  a  symbol  of  the 
white  man's  deterioration  in  these  wild  places.    A  sense 

294 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  295 

of  physical  and  spiritual  abandonment  to  alien  environ- 
ment, without  fitness  of  soul  or  habit,  depressed  me. 

As  we  passed,  I  saw  on  the  veranda  a  girl  of  sixteen 
or  seventeen,  with  a  white  face  and  light  blue  eyes.  Her 
long  yellow  hair  was  slightly  confined  by  a  piece  of  rib- 
bon, but  hung  down  loose  on  her  rounded  shoulders. 
She  wore  a  blue  cotton  gown,  becoming  and  not  in  keep- 
ing with  her  soiled  and  frayed  surroundings.  She 
seemed  not  to  notice  us  until  we  were  opposite  her, 
when  she  raised  her  head  and  glanced  at  us  a  moment. 
Those  off  the  schooner  she  must  have  known,  for  she 
fixed  her  eyes  on  me  the  fleeting  instant  of  her  gaze. 
They  had  the  innocence  and  appeal  of  a  fawn  and  the 
melancholy  and  detachment  of  a  cloistered  nun.  There 
was  no  curiosity  in  them,  though  we  were  the  only  white 
visitors  in  months,  and  had  come  with  the  new  governor, 
who  had  landed  but  the  day  before.  A  second  or  two 
her  eyes  met  mine  and  conveyed  an  unconscious  message 
of  youth  and  sorrow,  of^  budding  womanhood  that  had 
had  no  guidance  or  companionship,  and  only  sad 
dreams. 

From  the  room  opening  on  the  gallery  a  man  came 
and  shouted  to  us  "Bon  jourT  in  a  raven-like  croak. 
He  was  in  soiled  overalls,  barefooted,  and  reeling  drunk. 
His  brown  hair  and  beard  had  not  been  cut  for  months 
or  years,  and  rudely  margined  his  bloated,  grievous  face, 
of  rugged  strength,  in  which  grim  despair  contended 
with  fierce  pride. 

"That  is  Peyral,"  said  Ducat,  the  second  mate  of  the 
Fetia  Taiao.  He  is  always  half-seas  over,  except  when 
he  sews.  He  is  the  village  tailor,  and  makes  the  priest's 
gowns  and  clothes  for  any  one  who  will  buy  them. 


296  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

That  daughter  of  his  is  the  only  white  girl  in  the  Mar- 
quesas. She  is  all  white,  and  he  keeps  her  chained  in 
that  dark  house  as  if  he  was  afraid  some  one  would  eat 
her." 

"You  know  bloody  well  why  'e  keeps  'er  there,"  said 
Lying  Bill.  "  'E  knows  you  an'  me  and  'AUman  and 
'earty  bucks  like  us  is  not  to  be  trusted ;  'at  's  why !  I 
knew  'er  mother  and  'er  grandparents.  'E  was  a  Brit- 
ish calvary  officer  'oo  'ad  served  in  Injia,  an'  come  'ere 
with  'is  wife,  an  Irish  lady,  to  take  charge  of  the  store 
an'  plantation  now  owned  by  the  Germans  at  Tahaaku. 
They  'ad  one  daughter.  Peyral  was  a  non-com.  on  a 
French  war-ship  that  come  'ere  to  shoot  up  the  natives, 
an'  'e  was  purty  good  to  look  at  then.  'E  could  do  any- 
thing, an'  when  'e  got  'is  papers  from  the  French  navy 
'e  went  to  work  for  the  plantation,  courted  the  girl,  an', 
when  'er  parents  were  n't  lookin',  married  'er.  They 
died,  an'  'e  set  up  a  proper  'ouse  'ere,  an'  was  bloomin' 
prosp'rous  till  'is  wife  died  o'  the  pokoko,  this  gallopin' 
consumption  that  takes  off  the  natives.  Then  he  give 
in,  and  went  to  'ell.  'E  'as  three  girls,  two  little  ones, 
an'  'ow  they  live  I  don't  know.  When  'is  wife  died  'e 
painted  that  'ouse  black,  an'  'e  ain't  touched  it  since. 
'E  gathers  'is  copra,  an'  makes  a  few  clo's  now  an'  *en, 
an'  spends  all  the  money  on  absinthe.  The  girl  looks 
after  'er  sisters,  but  'e  guards  'er  like  a  bleedin'  dragon. 
She  never  goes  off  the  veranda  there  now  except  to 
church  on  Sundays  and  'olidays.  I  don't  know  what  '11 
'e  do  with  'er,  but  'e  '11  kill  any  one  that  goes  too  near 
'er  like  Ducat  'ere  or  meself." 

When  I  was  settled  in  the  House  of  the  Golden  Bed, 
as  the  Marquesans  called  the  cabin  I  had  rented  from 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  297 

Apporo,  the  wife  of  Great  Fern,  in  exchange  for  my 
brass  bed  at  my  departure,  I  went  ahnost  every  day  with 
Exploding  Eggs  to  the  beach  to  fish  or  swim  or  to  ride 
the  surf  on  a  board.  The  road  wended  from  my  house 
past  the  garden  of  the  palace  and  thence  to  the  sea. 
Between  the  governor's  and  the  beach  was  only  Peyral's 
noisome  residence,  and  twice  a  day  I  passed  it  within 
a  few  feet.  Sometimes  he  was  at  his  sewing-machine 
on  the  veranda,  or  gathering  the  coc'oanuts  that  had 
fallen  and  drying  them  in  the  sun,  but  generally  the 
shaggy  Breton  was  in  a  stupor  or  murmur ously  intox- 
icated, sitting  on  a  bench  or  lying  on  the  ground,  and 
talking  to  himself  in  the  way  of  morose,  unsocial  men 
when  inebriated.  His  daughter  was  usually  on  the  ve- 
randa sewing  by  hand,  or  apparently  wrapt  in  thoughts 
which  obscured  her  consciousness  and  painted  despond- 
ence on  her  countenance.  I  tried  not  to  stare  at  her, 
but  when  I  made  sure  that  she  was  oblivious  of  me,  or 
intentionally  not  seeing,  I  observed  her  narrowly. 

How  could  she  have  preserved  that  miraculous  blond- 
ness  in  these  islands?  It  was  amazing.  Her  skin  was 
like  the  inside  of  a  cocoanut,  smooth  as  satin.  The 
years  in  that  shadowy  house  had  bleached  her  white  flesh 
until  it  was  pearl-hke  in  transparency,  the  blue  veins  as 
in  fine  marble.  Though  hardly  seventeen  her  figure 
was  the  luxuriant  one  of  these  latitudes,  rounded  as  the 
breadfruit,  curving  in  opulency  under  her  single  gar- 
ment, a  diaphanous  tunic.  Her  hair  that  I  had  judged 
yellow  at  first  sight  was  silver-gold,  almost  as  white  as 
her  flesh,  but  with  glints  of  topaz  and  amber.  Silky,  glis- 
tening, as  fine  as  the  filament  of  a  web,  it  did  not  hide  her 
shapely  ears  and  fell  in  profusion  almost  to  her  waist. 


298  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

I  never  saw  her  smile.  Her  azure  eyes  had  wept 
until  their  fountains  were  dried.  She  was  numb,  mute, 
never  having  seen  aught  in  sleep  but  ghosts.  She  was, 
in  this  voluptuous  atmosphere,  herself  voluptuous  in 
contour  and  color,  but  frozen.  A  thousand  brutal 
words  from  Peyral  must  have  made  her  so.  In  drunk- 
enness he  was  harsh,  and  in  less  violent  hours  sullen  and 
suspicious.  The  children  feared  him  as  Nancy  had 
Bill  Sykes,  but  there  was  a  powerful  attachment 
between  them.  He  must  have  described  to  her  horrible 
things  that  he  guarded  her  against,  and  have  threatened 
unspeakable  punishments  if  she  disobeyed  him. 

Daughter  of  Europeans,  granddaughter  of  Celt  and 
Anglo-Saxon,  this  girl  did  not  know  her  father's  or 
mother's  language  but  feebly,  and  had  no  more  knowl- 
edge of  or  contact  with  the  world  of  her  forefathers  than 
if  she  were  all  Marquesan.  I  fancied  her  spirit  infi- 
nitely confused  by  her  blood  and  her  surroundings, 
vague  aspirations  perhaps  stirring  her  to  desire  for  other 
things  than  the  savage  and  stupid  ones  about  her.  In 
the  church  she  must  have  had  some  respite.  I  watched 
her  there  a  number  of  times,  bowed  over  her  Marquesan 
book  of  the  ritual,  reciting  the  prayers,  and  beating  her 
sweet  breast  at  the  mea  culpa  as  might  the  most  repen- 
tant sinner  or  worst  hypocrite. 

No  one  called  on  Peyral  save  a  very  occasional  buyer 
of  copra  or  an  infrequent  customer  for  clothes.  These, 
prevalently,  met  him  on  the  trail  or  at  church,  and  dealt 
with  him  there.  Either  his  jealous  solitude  was  re- 
spected, or  disagreeable  experiences  had  caused  the  vil- 
lagers to  shun  his  dweUing.  He  himself  infrequently 
dropped  in  at  the  store  of  Le  Brunnec,  or  the  German's 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  299 

establishment  at  Tahaaku  where  he  had  wooed  the 
daughter  of  the  EngHsh  officer  and  the  Irish  exile.  At 
the  Cathohc  church  only  was  he  a  regular  attendant, 
sitting  in  the  rear  by  the  pahua  shell  holy-water  font, 
and  mumbling  the  responses.  The  children  were  in  the 
pews,  the  sexes  separated,  and  I,  the  few  times  I  was 
there,  at  the  door  where  the  breeze  was  freshest  and  I 
might  go  out  unseen.  One  Sunday  he  spoke  to  me.  I 
was  as  astonished  as  if  Father  David  had  begun  a  hula 
at  the  altar. 

"You  are  American,"  he  said  in  French,  his  voice 
hoarse  and  broken. 

I  said  I  was  and  that  I  had  come  to  the  islands  to  stay 
an  uncertain  length  of  time.  We  exchanged  the  day's 
greetings  after  that,  and  when  Painter  Le  Moine  and 
I  were  examining  the  remains  of  the  studio  of  Paul 
Gauguin,  who  had  died  here  ten  years  before,  it  was 
Peyral  who  showed  us  how  everything  had  been  and  who 
told  me  of  his  daily  intercourse  with  the  famous  sym- 
bolist. Thus  we  struck  up  a  real  acquaintance,  if  not 
friendship,  and  he  would  tarry  a  quarter  of  an  hour  on 
my  paepae  to  drink  a  shell  of  rum  -and  to  talk  about 
copra  and  the  coming  and  going  of  schooners.  He 
drew  me  out  about  my  plans,  whether  I  was  going  to 
settle  in  the  Marquesas  or  return  to  my  own  country, 
and  evinced  a  flattering  interest  in  my  future.  And  I 
was  flattered,  as  I  am  easily  by  the  friendliness  of  un- 
friendly people,  and  did  not  question  his  genuine  liking 
for  me. 

Ah  Suey,  the  Chinese  baker  and  storekeeper,  who  had 
been  tried  for  the  murder  of  an  American,  and  who 
spoke  English  he  had  learned  at  Los  Angeles  and  at  sea, 


300  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

might  have  enlightened  me,  but  that  I  was  beyond 
doubt.  I  was  at  Ah  Suey's  to  dance  a  jig  and  to  sing 
"The  Good  Old  Summertime"  to  amuse  him.  The  sat- 
urnine Chinese,  after  a  drink  of  rum,  said: 

"Peylalee  all  time  come  you  housee  takee  dlinkee. 
He  no  good.  More  better  you  tell  him  poponihoo  go 
helleel     Makee  tlubble  for  you  his  daughtah." 

Ah  Suey  puzzled  me,  but  I  do  not  like  advice  or 
warning,  and  I  shunted  the  subject. 

Peyral  was  a  hunter.  He  would  wander,  always 
alone,  in  the  upper  valleys,  to  shoot  kvJku,  or  along  the 
beach  for  salt-water  birds,  walking  slowly  and  not 
alertly ;  but  he  was  a  crack  shot  and  hardly  ever  failed  to 
bring  back  a  bag  of  game.  He  had  learned  marksman- 
ship at  sea,  or  perhaps  in  his  native  Brittany,  and  his 
cartridges  went  far.  He  was  not  contented  with  birds, 
but  also  tramped  to  the  mountains  to  kill  goats  or  even 
the  wild  bulls  that  were  growing  scarce  there  under  a 
promiscuous  use  of  firearms.  Le  Brunnec,  the  trader, 
an  amiable  and  intelligent  Breton,  and  I  met  him  there, 
fortunately,  at  a  critical  moment  for  me.  We  had, 
Le  Brunnec  and  I,  climbed  on  horses  in  the  late  after- 
noon to  a  plateau  high  up  in  the  hills  and  camped  there 
the  night.  In  that  altitude  it  was  cool  after  the  sun 
had  set,  and  we  sat  about  a  fire  of  twigs  and  branches 
until  we  were  sleepy.  We  were  considerably  past  the 
hne  of  cocoanut-palms,  and  in  a  rich  and  varied  flora. 
Magnificent  chestnut,  ironwood,  rose-apple,  and  other 
tropical  trees  formed  dark  groups  about  us,  and  masses 
of  huetu  or  mountain  plantains  Kned  the  slopes.  We 
had  washed  down  our  dinner  with  a  bottle  of  Moselle, 
and  had  a  mellow  and  philosophical  hour  before  sleep. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  301 

Far  above  us  we  could  see  a  pair  of  ducks,  a  kind  of 
non-migratory  mallard.  They  lived  only  in  the  lonely 
valleys  or  woods,  and  nested  on  the  tops  of  distant 
ridges  where  they  laid  a  half  dozen  eggs.  The  duck- 
lings must  be  carried  by  their  parents  to  the  feeding 
grounds  hundreds  of  feet  below. 

We  talked  about  the  decimation  of  the  Marquesans 
— Le  Brunnec  in  ten  years  had  seen  them  depopulated 
almost  50  per  cent. 

"They  are  unhappy  and  soul-sick,"  he  said.  "They 
are  animals,  and,  when  they  had  freedom  under  their 
own  rule,  prospered  enormously.  Now  there  are  a 
couple  of  thousand  instead  of  the  hundred  thousand 
the  whites  found.  They  are  in  the  cage  of  civilization 
and  cannot  stand  the  bars.  We  are  adaptable  because 
we  are  an  admixture  of  many  races,  and  have  had  to 
exist  in  changing  environments  or  die.  Millions  must 
have  died  from  the  same  thing  that  destroys  the  Mar- 
quesans, but  there  were  enough  to  keep  on  and  build  up 
again.  The  quality  of  adaptability,  of  making  the  best 
of  it,  is  wonderful.  One  time  in  Tahiti  I  was  at  the 
Annexe  lodging-house  of  Lovaina  when  a  Frenchman 
arrived  by  steamer  from  Martinique.  He  had  with 
him  his  four  children.  The  mother,  a  native  of  that 
island,  was  dead,  and  the  oldest  child  was  a  girl  of  thir- 
teen, a  child-woman,  naive  but  clever,  and  very  charm- 
ing. For  four  years  she  had  been  mother  to  the  other 
three,  since  she  was  nine,  and  they  were  as  neat  as 
a  gunboat.  She  was  tiny  and  undeveloped  physically, 
but  necessity  had  adapted  her  perfectly  to  her  task. 
The  father  was  looking  for  work,  and,  not  finding  it  in 
Tahiti,  was  off  to  Dacca,  in  Africa,  leaving  the  babies 


302  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

in  her  care.  Mon  Dieul  It  was  brave  to  see  her  bath- 
ing them,  brushing  their  hair,  reproving  them,  and  feed- 
ing them.  If  she  had  been  five  years  older  I  would 
have  tried  to  marry  her,  and  the  whole  flock.  Now,  you 
see,  she  could  keep  on  because  she  was  continuing  the 
white  race  customs  and  ideals,  and  understood  them, 
hard  as  it  was;  but  these  poor  people  have  been  told  to 
do  something  they  don't  understand,  and  that  is  not 
their  ideal.  Now  take  that  girl  of  old  Peyrall  Her 
mother  spoke  English,  and  her  father  is  French,  and  she 
went  to  the  nuns'  school  here  for  four  or  five  years. 
Yet  she  can  hardly  speak  anything  but  Marquesan,  and 
in  that  tongue  she  replies  to  her  father,  and  talks  to  her 
sisters.  She  is  almost  a  Marquesan,  and  as  they  are 
unhappy  in  their  prison  so  is  she.  She  is  the  only  white 
woman  here,  and  she  has  no  companions,  and  her  father 
won't  let  her  be  a  native.  Pauvre  enfant!  Now,  her 
I  would  n't  marry  for  all  the  cocoanuts  on  this  island. 
There  is  one  other,  Mademoiselle  Narbonne,  who  is  the 
richest  person  in  the  Marquesas,  for  she,  too,  is  fit 
neither  for  native  life  nor  for  white.  The  nuns  have 
spoiled  her,  as  her  mother  spoiled  the  Peyral  girl." 

And  so  to  bed  on  the  grass  with  a  blanket  about  us. 

In  the  morning  we  were  up  at  daybreak,  and,  after 
coffee  and  hardtack,  we  rode  toward  the  sea.  There 
was  a  faint  trail,  but  Le  Brunnec  was  a  skilled  tracker 
and  picked  up  the  spoor  in  a  few  minutes.  After  half 
an  hour  we  saw  fresher  traces  of  our  prey,  and  began 
to  make  plans  for  the  attack.  We  felt  sure  we  were 
the  only  ones  on  the  plateau,  and  so  were  safe,  for  Mar- 
quesans  are  reckless  with  guns,  and  when  we  heard  a 
horse  coming  toward  us  we  halted  and  waited.     It  was 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  808 

Peyral.  We  could  see  his  frowsy  head  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  away  as  it  bobbed  in  the  trot. 

'^Eh  bienr  said  Le  Brunnee,  philosophically,  "He  is 
not  so  bad  here.  It  is  curious  that  when  Peyral  has  been 
drunk  for  a  month,  and  reforms  so  as  not  to  die,  he  goes 
to  the  mountains  for  a  week  and  shoots  an  animal." 

We  said  bon  jour,  and  he  joined  us.  Le  Brunnee 
proposed  that  we  try  to  kill  two  bulls,  share  the  labor 
of  carrying  the  meat  to  Atuona,  and  divide  it  there. 
Peyral  gruffly  assented,  and,  as  he  was  the  more  skillful 
chasseur,  gave  us  our  stations.  We  were  to  start  up 
one  or  more  taureaux  sauvages  and  to  endeavor  to  re- 
frain from  firing  at  them  until  they  were  as  near  as 
possible  to  the  cliff.  We  were  successful  and  had  felled 
one,  when  another  appeared. 

"Prennez  garde!"  shouted  Le  Brunnee.  "That  haM- 
uka  has  blood  in  his  eye." 

"Go  around  to  the  left  and  drive  him  toward  me,** 
commanded  Peyral. 

I  was  riding  fast  about  his  flank  when  my  horse  put 
his  foot  in  a  rat's  hole.  I  had  my  rifle  on  my  right  arm 
and  I  must  have  used  it  as  a  vaulting-pole  unwittingly, 
for  I  struck  the  earth  about  ten  feet  from  my  mount. 
I  was  struggling  to  my  feet  when  I  became  aware  that 
the  hakiuka  was  approaching  with  malice  in  his  snort- 
ings.  My  horse  had  got  up  but  too  late  to  bear  me  to 
security,  and  my  rifle  was  choked  with  mud.  I  rushed 
for  a  tree  but  could  see  none  with  low  branches.  I  had 
a  big  knife  in  my  belt,  a  kind  of  Bowie,  and,  as  I  felt 
the  hot  breath  of  the  animal  on  me  and  saw  his  horns 
magnified  to  elephant's  tusks,  I  drew  the  weapon.  The 
beast  was  within  five  feet  of  me  when  he  dropped.    Pey- 


304  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ral  had  put  a  Winchester  bullet  in  his  heart.  His  head 
was  at  my  feet  as  he  gave  it  a  mighty  toss,  and  laid  it 
on  the  sward  of  maidenhair  ferns  in  submission  to  man's 
invention. 

When  I  had  made  sure  of  the  poor  hakiuka^s  being 
absolutely  dead,  and  had  shaken  myself  together,  find- 
ing no  injuries,  I  thanked  Peyral,  whom  Le  Brunnec 
was  already  extolling  for  niarksmanship  and  quickness 
of  thought. 

"Rien!  It  is  nothing  1"  replied  the  shaggy  man.  *'I 
like  to  kill." 

We  put  ropes  over  the  horns  of  the  victims,  and 
forced  our  horses  to  drag  them  to  a  certain  spot  at  the 
edge  of  the  cliff.  Below  'was  a  wide  shelf  of  rocks  at 
water-level.  We  pushed  the  stiffening  bodies  over  the 
edge  and  let  them  fall.  Then  we  rode  back  to  Atuona, 
and  in  a  big  canoe  with  three  Marquesans,  Great  Fern, 
Mouth  of  God,  and  Exploding  Eggs,  went  for  the  car- 
casses. To  retrieve  them  into  the  craft  was  a  difficult 
task. 

The  sea  surged  against  the  rocks  so  that  we  could  not 
tie  up  close  to  them,  but  several  of  us  jumped  on  them 
while  others  remained  in  the  canoe,  with  a  line  ashore 
and  a  kedge-anchor  aft.  The  Marquesans  cut  up  the 
bulls  into  quarters,  and  each  we  tied  to  a  rope  and 
dragged  through  the  water  into  the  canoe.  Over  our 
heads  a  cloud  of  heron  and  sea-gulls  shrieked  for  their 
share,  and  when  we  had  left  the  rocks  these  birds 
screamed  and  fought  for  the  entrails.  They  had  been 
attracted  when  the  bulls  were  killed,  and  for  hours  had 
pecked  vainly  at  the  carcasses.  The  dragging  them  over 
the  land  and  hurling  them  to  the  ledge,  and  their  hours  of 


Malicious  Gossip,  Le  Brunnec,  and  his  wife,  at  peace 


■■-,V:-'  .'".•'*  '^v* air-  ^'2F^-»- 
Photo  by  Dr.  Malcolm  Douglas 

Exploding  Eggs  and  his  chums  packing  copra 


to 

O 

Q 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  805 

lying  there,  had  drawn  an  immense  concourse  of  the  sea- 
birds.  There  were  many  thousands  before  we  got  away, 
and  so  rapacious  were  they  that  they  circled  over  our 
heads  and  snatched  at  the  bloody  meat  in  the  canoe.  We 
had  to  wave  our  shirts  at  them  to  frighten  them  away. 
Sharks  smelling  the  blood  swam  about  the  canoe,  and  we 
were  not  a  little  afraid.  We  had  brought  no  guns  in  the 
canoe,  and  we  were  forced  to  strike  at  them  with  pad- 
dles, and  shout  imprecations  at  them.  They  did  not 
enter  the  breakers,  which  we  ran  to  the  sand.  At  the 
beach  near  Commissaire  Bauda's  residence  and  offices, 
we  turned  over  to  Peyral  his  third,  and,  taking  the 
remainder  into  the  village,  Great  Fern  with  saw  and 
knife  provided  every  household,  including  the  Catholic 
and  Protestant  clergy  and  the  nuns,  with  ample  for  a 
meal  or  two.  Peyral  threw  his  part  over  his  horse's 
back  and  left  us,  muttering  that  he  would  salt  it  down 
for  the  uncertain  future. 

Peyral  became  increasingly  friendly,  and  a  number 
of  times  stopped  me  on  my  way  to  and  from  the  shore 
to  invite  me  to  drink  with  him.  Le  Brunnec  said  that 
this  was  something  new  for  Peyral,  and  that  he  must 
be  "going  crazy."  But,  like  Ah  Suey,  Le  Brunnec  hid 
his  real  thought  from  me  when  I  defended  Peyral  and 
said  that  he  was  sinned  against  overmuch.  Peyral's 
daughter — I  hardly  ever  caught  sight  of  the  younger 
two — would  desert  the  veranda  if  I  came  upon  it,  but 
once  he  called  her,  and  when  she  did  not  respond  imme- 
diately added  a  "sacre"  to  his  order  for  her  to  come  and 
be  presented  to  me. 

"She  is  a  fine  girl,  but  shy,"  he  said,  and  patted  her 
clumsily. 


306  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Mademoiselle  Peyral  trembled  under  his  heavy 
caress,  and  with  merely  a  slight,  awkward  bow  to  me 
hurried  into  the  sombre  chamber. 

"She  is  shy,"  he  repeated  as  he  drank  his  absinthe 
with  mouthing  and  grimacing.  "She  needs  a  man  to 
train  her  right,  a  husband,  eh,  a  gentleman,  mon  garfon. 
Is  not  that  right?" 

Peyral's  voice  was  almost  gentle,  but  his  mood 
changed  in  a  breath.  He  struck  the  board  hard  with 
his  shell,  and  yelled,  "Do  you  understand,  American, 
I  said  a  gentleman.  Her  mother  was  aristocrat.  Do 
you  get  that  into  your  noddle?" 

Exploding  Eggs,  who  had  waited  for  me  on  the  road 
with  my  towels,  laughed  as  we  ran  toward  the  surf. 

"Peyral  paed/'  he  said.  "Too  much  drink,  too  much 
fight." 

I  did  not  stop  after  that  when  he  bade  me  have  a 
goutte  with  him,  for  I  was  sensible  of  a  deep  pity  for 
the  girl  and  an  ardent  desire  to  save  her  embarrassment, 
the  deadly  unreasoning  shame  or  perplexity  that  over- 
whelmed her  at  her  father's  gross  attitude  and  my  pres- 
ence. After  a  few  weeks,  Peyral  did  not  sing  out  to 
me  any  more,  and  I  was  conscious  of  a  coldness,  of  a 
return  of  his  first  relation  to  me,  and  then  of  fits 
and  starts  of  friendship.  I  felt  oppressed  by  his 
changing  tempers,  and  attributed  them  to  his  varying 
degrees  of  inebriety. 

I  split  my  rain-coat  one  day,  and,  after  making  a  bad 
job  of  repairing  it,  thought  of  Peyral  and  his  skill  as  a 
tailor.  With  the  coat  on  my  arm  I  climbed  the  stairs 
to  his  porch,  and,  finding  no  one  there,  called  out  Pey- 
ral's name.    My  voice  echoed  through  the  house,  and, 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  307 

with  the  intention  of  scribbling  a  note  and  leaving  the 
coat,  I  entered  the  nearest  room.  Mademoiselle  Peyral 
was  sitting  near  the  machine  but  was  not  sewing.  She 
trembled  as  I  approached  her,  and  looked  frightened.  I 
am  timid  with  women,  and  her  nervousness  communi- 
cated itself  to  me.  I  wished  I  was  not  there.  She  was 
half  uncovered,  having  on  only  a  chemise,  and  her  dis- 
habille added  to  my  confusion,  though  that  very  morn- 
ing I  had  bathed  in  the  river  nude  with  Titihuti  and 
others. 

"Please  give  your  father  this  coat,  and  ask  him  to  re- 
pair it,"  I  said,  and  put  it  down.  Her  downcast  eyes 
and  heaving  bosom,  her  evident  extreme  timidity,  and 
her  pitiable  situation  overcame  me.  She  was  of  my  own 
race,  and  she  was  so  white  and  so  fair.  Before  I 
could  restrain  myself,  I  said  in  English,  "Don't  be 
afraid  of  me  I  I  am  very  sorry  for  you,"  and  I  patted 
her  shoulder  as  I  might  have  a  child's. 

She  shrank  from  me  in  apparent  horror,  and  ran  from 
the  room  into  a  farther  one,  screaming  in  Marquesan. 
I  started  to  follow  her  to  explain  or  to  appease  her,  but 
reconsidered. 

Though  I  was  conscious  of  no  wrong,  the  familiar 
incidents  in  newspapers  and  gossip  of  misinterpreted 
gestures  and  of  false  allegations  rose  to  my  mind  as  her 
cries  resounded  through  the  black  and  tristful  house. 
I  moved  toward  the  porch  to  leave,  and  deliberated,  and 
awaited  some  one's  coming.  Better  to  tell  the  fact  and 
make  a  stand  there  and  then,  said  common  sense.  But  no 
one  answered  her  alarm,  and  after  a  few  mmutes  I  left, 
with  the  coat,  and  returned  to  my  own  cabin.  For  half 
an  hour  my  mind  was  actively  going  over  the  affair  to 


308  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

find  out  what  might  be  at  the  bottom  of  it,  and,  of  course, 
to  make  certain  of  my  clearance  of  the  least  onus  of 
guilt. 

Perhaps  I  was  the  first  man  other  than  her  father 
who  had  put  his  hand  on  her,  and  I  had  done  that,  no 
matter  how  innocently!  The  nuns  had  overbalanced 
her  standard  of  modesty,  and  her  father's  brutal  admo- 
nitions had  made  her  hysterical!  I  tried  myself  and, 
having  found  myself  not  guilty  of  even  forwardness  or 
discourtesy,  I  cooked  my  dinner,  poured  myself  a  shell 
of  Munich  beer  that  had  been  cooled  in  the  river,  and 
dismissed  the  trifle. 

The  next  afternoon  as  I  passed  the  governor's  garden 
on  the  road  to  the  beach,  I  saw  Peyral  on  the  veranda 
with  the  official.  I  thought  of  the  rent  in  my  rain-coat, 
and  entered  the  grounds  to  speak  to  him  about  it.  As 
I  approached  the  steps  I  heard  the  tailor  speaking 
loudly  and  vehemently  to  Monsieur  I'Hermier,  aaid 
spilling  the  absinthe  in  the  glass  in  his  hand. 

^'Kaoha!"  I  said,  and  Peyral  turned  and  saw  me. 
His  face  purpled,  and  he  shouted  in  French  something 
I  did  not  understand,  and  appealed  to  the  governor  for 
corroboration.  A  twinge  of  privity  with  his  emotion 
swept  over  me,  and  I  am  sure  I  flushed  and  looked  the 
culprit.  I  hadn't  much  time  for  analysis,  for  Peyral 
stood  up  and  flung  his  glass  at  my  head.  It  went  wide. 
I  took  a  step  toward  him'  and  asked : 

"What's  the  matter  with  him.  Monsieur  VAdminis- 
trateur?     Is  he  drunker  than  usual ?" 

"Je  ne  sais  pas"  replied  the  governor,  with  a  shrug 
of  his  shoulder.  "He  has  come  here  to  lodge  a  com- 
plaint against  you  of  maltreating  his  daughter.     He 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  309 

wants  you  tried  and  sent  to  prison,  and  he  wants  to  in- 
stitute a  suit  against  you  for  damages.  I  have  told  him 
to  return  when  he  is  sober.  He  is  bitter.  Monsieur,  and 
he  is,  after  all,  a  Frenchman." 

Peyral  got  up  from  his  chair,  unsteadily.  The  gover- 
nor discreetly  left  the  veranda  and  entered  his  study. 
I  sat  down  in  sheer  weariness,  when  suddenly  the  fren- 
zied drunkard  confronted  me. 

'^Sacre  Americain!"  he  yelled.  "You  will  insult  the 
daughter  of  a  French  patriot.  Cochon!  I  will  show 
you  what  I  do  to  such  people  as  you!" 

He  flung  himself  upon  me  and  struck  me  in  the  face. 
Peyral  was  fifty  pounds  heavier  than  I,  but  he  was  very 
drunk.  I  drove  my  fist  into  his  chin,  and,  following  the 
blow  with  another,  sent  him  sprawling.  I  regretted 
my  violence  as  I  saw  the  poor  devil  staggering  to  his 
feet  unsteadily,  but  when,  with  the  most  blasphemous 
profanity  and  the  basest  epithets  in  the  dialect  of  Brest, 
he  lurched  at  me  again  with  his  two  hundred  pounds  of 
rank  bulk,  charity  fled  from  my  panting  heart,  and  I 
realized  that  I  must  fight  or  retreat.  Years  of  addic- 
tion to  alcohol  had  not  made  my  assailant  anything  but 
tough  and  strong  physically,  and  I  was  no  match  for 
him  if  he  was  not  reeling.  He  plunged  toward  me  as 
a  drunken  elephant  might  go  to  combat.  I  decided  not 
to  run,  because  I  wanted  to  continue  to  live  in  Atuona 
underided,  and  so  I  sprang  to  meet  him,  and  hitting  him 
full  tilt  in  the  chin  and  chest,  carried  him  hard  down  to 
the  boards,  where  we  grappled  and  exchanged  power- 
less blows. 

We  had  knocked  over  table,  bottle,  glasses,  and 
chairs,  and  the  uproar  was  immense.     Song  of  the 


310  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Nightingale,  Exploding  Eggs,  Ghost  Girl  and  Many- 
Daughters,  the  little  leper  lass,  had  come  scurrying 
from  the  kitchen.  Maybe  the  governor  had  a  plan,  or 
his  dignity  was  offended,  for,  without  appearing,  he 
gave  an  order  to  Song,  and  the  quartet  of  natives  threw 
themselves  on  us,  and  disentangled  us.  Song,  who  later 
confessed  to  me  that  he  had  a  grudge  against  the  tailor, 
took  the  opportunity  in  the  hurly-burly  to  deal  him 
vicious  blows,  and  then  drove  the  cursing,  struggling 
Breton  through  the  garden  and  out  the  gateway.  Pey- 
ral's  last  words  were  a  threat  to  kill  me  the  next  time 
we  met.  The  village  had  gathered,  and  Apporo,  my 
landlady,  Mouth  of  God,  Malicious  Gossip,  his  wife, 
and  a  dozen  others  were  running  toward  the  palace. 
Song  dismissed  them  with  a  grandiloquent  gesture,  and 
his  obscene  badinage  dissolved  their  curiosity  in  gales 
of  laughter. 

With  the  disturbance  abated,  the  governor  joined  me, 
his  ordinary  merry  self  again,  and  we  drank  a  libation 
to  Mars.  My  clothes  were  torn,  my  jaw  ached,  and 
my  body  was  bruised  from  the  clutches  of  the  tailor. 

"Do  not  molest  yourself!"  said  the  executive.  "I  do 
not  entertain  any  evil  of  you.  When  the  allegation  is 
formally  made,  I,  as  magistrate,  will  hear  the  evidence. 
According  to  his  own  statement,  no  one  was  there  but 
his  daughter  and  you.  I  believe  you  a  man  of  honor. 
And  women?  Mon  vieuao,  I  have  known  and  loved 
many  of  them.  I  am  a  doctor,  and  a  student  of  life. 
They  are  incomprehensible.  But  we  must  take  precau- 
tions. He  has  said  he  will  kill  you,  so  you  must  be  on 
guard.  You  have  no  pistol?  Eh  hienl  I  will  lend 
you  my  Browning  automatic  I  had  in  Senegal.    It  is 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  811 

loaded.  Defend  yourself,  but  do  not  step  on  his  prop- 
erty.   Nous  verronsr 

The  governor  was  dramatic,  not  to  say  melodramatic, 
and,  to  my  nervous  conception,  he  took  too  lightly  the 
crime  upon  my  person.  I  was  the  one  to  bring  a 
charge,  not  Peyral.  Assaulted  in  the  palace,  at  the 
throne  of  justice,  in  the  presence  of  the  judge,  I  was 
handed  a  deadly  firearm  by  the  arbiter,  and  told  to  pro- 
tect myself.  It  was  like  the  Wild  West,  or  a  stage 
farce.  But  I  had  come  a  thousand  miles  with  him  on  a 
small  vessel,  and  knew  his  delight  in  the  least  diversion 
that  would  relieve  his  ennui  in  a  monotonous  period  of 
service.  This  was  but  a  scherzo  in  a  slow  program. 
However,  I  thanked  him  and,  with  the  heavy  pistol, 
went  to  the  House  of  the  Golden  Bed.  The  girl  was 
uppermost  in  my  unstable  reflections. 

What  had  possessed  her  to  lie  so?  She  must  have 
distorted  my  ingenuous  action  damnably  to  cause  her 
father  to  beset  me  before  the  governor,  and  to  swear  to 
kill  me  I  I  pictured  her  as  I  had  last  seen  her,  and  try 
as  I  would  I  could  not  hate  her.  I  lay  down  with  the 
Browning  beside  me,  and  dreamed  that  she  was  testify- 
ing against  me  at  the  seat  of  judgment,  and  that  an  aus- 
tere God  pointed  downward.  Exploding  Eggs  was 
cooking  a  rasher  of  bacon  on  my  improvised  stove  on  the 
paepae  the  next  morning,  when  Flag,  the  mutoi,  brought 
a  note,  he  acting  as  general  messenger  of  the  island.  It 
was  in  a  strange  hand  and  on  dirty  paper.  I  could  not 
make  out  the  language  except  a  few  French  words,  and 
the  signature  not  at  all,  an  so  after  breakfast  I  took  it 
to  Le  Brunnec  at  his  store. 

Le  Bnmnec  glanced  over  it  and  looked  puzzled. 


312  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Then  he  spoke  low,  in  French,  so  that  the  natives  in 
the  room  might  not  glean  a  word. 

''MmsT  he  said,  "it  is  from  Peyral,  and  it  is  written 
in  Breton  and  absinthe.  I  translate  it  for  you  into 
your  English: 

"  'Monsieur:  You  cannot  eviter' — what  you  say? — 
escape — 'from  your  insult  to  ma  fille.  You  have  in- 
sulted and  struck  me,  too.  I  will  not  seek  the  tribunal 
to  make  your  apology.  The  governor  has  told  me  you 
are  Irishman,  and  so  you  are  of  the  same  blood  like  the 
grandparent  of  my  child.  In  France  what  you  have 
done  must  be  paid  for  in  blood  or  by  marriage.  Even 
if  you  make  intention  to  return  to  your  own  country  no 
matter.  You  must  marry  my  daughter  or  you  will  be 
buried  in  Calvaire  cimetihre — ^what  you  say — grave- 
yard?— *It  is  necessary  that  you  send  me  word  by  to- 
morrow or  I  will  make  justice  on  you.'  He  says  he  is 
yours  respectful.  Well,  by  gar,  it  is  a  situation,  my 
friend,  but  I  say  to  you  one  thing:  do  not  be  afraid. 
He  slip  back  already.  You  have  a  revolver?  Yes? 
Keep  it  in  the  hand  or  the  pants." 

The  merchant  took  up  his  sugar  scoop  to  begin  busi- 
ness. My  wholeness  or  health  seemed  not  to  interest 
him  seriously.  I  sauntered  up  the  path  in  meditation. 
My  feet  took  me  into  the  mission  churchyard,  and  I  sat 
on  the  roots  of  a  gigantic  banian-tree  near  the  colossal 
crucifix  brought  from  France  by  the  priests  for  the  ju- 
bilee of  1900.  The  mad  note  of  Peyral  had  stunned  me, 
and,  instead  of  thinking  hard  and  clearly  upon  my  situ- 
ation, I  fell  into  fatuous  reverie. 

A  gentle  and  lovely  savage  she  was,  and  unspoiled  by 
civilization.    What  a  singular  and  perhaps  entrancing 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  313 

task  to  teach  her  only  the  best  in  it,  to  unfold  through 
English  or  French  the  music  and  literature  of  the  world, 
to  take  her  perhaps  to  the  great  cities?  Or  if  I  myself 
was  done  with  civilization,  as  I  sometimes  persuaded 
myself  I  was,  what  more  dehghtful  companion  than  this 
simple  virgin  of  Atuona?  To  fish,  to  swim,  to  roam 
the  plateaus;  to  have  a  library  and  to  get  the  reviews 
and  the  new  books  by  the  schooners,  to  create  a  living 
idyll!  Love  would  undoubtedly  be  the  response  of 
kindness,  of  sympathy,  of  tenderness,  of  love  itself.  But 
could  I  love  her?  There  would  be  children.  And  they 
would  grow  up  here.  I  remembered  her  own  white  feet 
in  the  mud  of  this  village.  Their  mother!  And  with 
Peyral's  blood  in  them!  Peyrall  Damn  him!  What 
had  I  done  to  make  him  attack  me,  to  say  he  would  kill 
me?  To  spoil  my  peace?  I  would  wear  the  Browning 
about  my  waist,  and  if  he  winked  an  eyelash  I  would 
shoot  first.  He  had  brought  it  on  himself.  She  had 
lied  to  him.  I  had  no  liking  to  be  in  Calvary  with  Gau- 
guin. My  grave  would  be  forgotten  like  his.  A  man 
here  was  a  bubble  in  the  breeze.  It  burst  and  was 
nothing. 

All  these  ideas  rushed  through  my  head  as  I  returned 
to  my  house.  I  had  concluded  not  to  pass  Peyral's 
house  unarmed,  so  I  tied  a  string  about  my  middle  over 
my  pareu  and  fastened  the  revolver  to  it.  With  one 
pull  the  knot  undid  and  the  gun  came  loose  into  my 
hand.  I  wore  a  light  linen  coat  over  my  bare  body, 
and  no  one  was  the  wiser. 

Thus  ready  for  my  would-be  murderer  or  father-in- 
law,  I  whistled  to  Exploding  Eggs  the  next  forenoon, 
and,  he  with  towels  in  hand,  we  walked  toward  the 


314  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

sands.  There  was  no  one  on  the  veranda  of  the  palace. 
Except  for  the  residence  of  the  lepers  by  the  cemetery 
there  was  no  other  house  toward  the  beach  but  that  of 
my  enemy. 

Obscure  under  the  heavy-leaved  palms,  I  could  not  be 
sure  that  Peyral  was  not  ensconced  on  his  gallery  with 
a  bottle  of  absinthe  and  a  shotgun  or  rifle  waiting  to 
pot-shot  me.  He  knew  my  habit  of  bathing  every  day, 
and  maybe  was  chuckling  over  scaring  me  from  the  spot. 
I  walked  boldly  and  briskly  past  his  house.  There  was 
no  figure  on  the  porch  but  that  of  a  girl.  I  glimpsed 
her  only,  for  an  emotion  of  shame — inexplicable  shame 
— directed  my  eyes  away  from  her.  I  continued  on  to 
the  water,  and,  hiding  my  revolver  in  the  trailing  pahue 
with  its  morning-glory  blossoms,  I  took  up  my  surf- 
board and  forgot  Peyral  in  that  most  exhilarating  of 
sports. 

Exploding  Eggs  dragged  his  tiny  canoe  from  the 
bushes,  and  we  launched  it  and  pushed  it  through  the 
surf.  With  rare  dexterity  he  paddled  it  seaward,  I 
with  my  board  on  my  knees,  a  calm  admirer  of  his  mar- 
velous control  of  the  little  craft:  he  and  it  the  first 
Marquesan  and  the  first  canoe  I  had  seen  in  this  archi- 
pelago. When  we  were  out  half  a  mile  or  so  we  lay  still 
for  the  right  breaker.  He  watched  and  after  a  few 
minutes  began  to  paddle  with  intense  energy  until  the 
wave  caught  him.  We  swung  to  its  crest  and  clung 
there  as  we  dashed  in  at  a  fast  pace  without  motion  on 
our  part.  But,  when  half-way.  Exploding  Eggs  took 
my  board  from  me,  and,  handing  me  the  paddle,  he  sud- 
denly plunged  with  it  from  the  canoe  and,  extended  full 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  815 

on  the  board  in  rhythm  with  the  billow  I  rode,  accom- 
panied me  to  shore. 

The  sun  was  dropping  down  the  western  sky  when 
we  dressed  to  leave  the  beach,  Exploding  Eggs  in  his 
loin-cloth  and  I  in  mine,  with  my  coat  over  the  Brown- 
ing. The  hours  in  the  salt  water  with  the  exercise  and 
the  laughter  had  cleared  the  cobwebs  of  blame  from  my 
brain.  My  innocent  blood  would  be  on  the  guilty  head 
of  Peyral  did  he  kill  me.  That  was  comforting.  How- 
ever, I  made  sure  that  the  knot  slipped  easily,  and  with 
my  valet  beside  me  I  made  the  start. 

I  had  gained  half-way  when  I  saw  Peyral  coming 
toward  me,  a  thousand  feet  away,  with  a  shot-gun  over 
his  shoulder.  He  was  silhouetted  against  the  setting 
sun  and  could  not  be  mistaken.  His  burly  form,  his' 
beard,  his  general  shagginess  made  him  unmistakable, 
as  was  also  the  outline  of  the  weapon. 

There  was  no  stopping.  The  swamp  was  on  either 
side  of  the  ten- foot  road,  the  beach  behind  me.  Fleeing 
was  out  of  the  question.  I  might  have  taken  a  side  road 
had  there  been  one,  but  just  such  conditions  as  presented 
themselves  then  must  be  met  daily.  I  kept  on,  and,  as 
we  came  nearer,  our  eyes  joined  and  remained  steadily 
fixed.  I  do  not  know  how  Peyral  felt,  but  I  was  as  fas- 
cinated as  the  proverbial  bird  by  the  snake.  I  moved 
as  if  by  magnetic  power  toward  my  probable  slayer,  and 
he  toward  me.  Neither  of  us  made  a  movement  except 
that  of  our  legs  and  stiff  bodies. 

There  came  a  second  when  we  were  about  four  feet 
apart,  each  hugging  the  edge  of  the  road.  Our  eyes 
were  held  straight  ahead,  and  mine  remained  so.    We 


316  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

appeared  to  hesitate  as  if  we  might  whirl  and  seize  each 
other  or  draw  our  weapons.  The  shot-gun  was  on  his 
shoulder  but  in  the  flash  of  an  eye  might  be  brought 
down  to  the  level  of  my  vitals.  But  the  eye  did  not 
flash.  The  gun  swayed  only  with  his  footfalls,  and  we 
continued  our  mechanical  advance  away  from  each 
other. 

Prudence  whispered  to  me  to  turn  and  protect  myself 
from  a  rear  attack,  but  the  message  did  not  affect  my 
legs.  I  winced  momentarily  for  the  expected  load  of 
shot  in  my  back,  but  I  walked  stiffly  as  if  a  great  ray  of 
light  were  penetrating  my  cerebellum.  Exploding 
Eggs,  who  knew  only  about  our  fight  upon  the  palace 
balcony  and  nothing  of  my  having  the  Browning,  was 
chanting  about  the  god  of  ni^t,  Po,  and  paid  no 
attention  to  Peyral,  except  to  say  quite  audibly,  "Pey- 
rale  aoe  metai!  Peyral  is  no  good !"  That  did  not  add 
to  my  surety,  and  the  imagined  missile  or  missiles  from 
behind  did  not  become  less  vivid  until  I  was  beyond 
shooting  distance.  Just  as  I  calculated  with  incredible 
relief  that  the  crisis  was  past,  Peyral's  gun  roared  out. 

My  muscles  squirmed,  my  heart  leaped,  my  knees 
bent,  and  my  chin  touched  my  bosom.  Exploding 
Eggs  laughed. 

"Peyrale  puhi  kukuf'  he  said  regretfully;  "Peyral 
has  shot  a  kuku" — as  if  I  should  have  shot  it.  I 
laughed  heartily  with  him.  The  joke  was  on  me,  but 
I  enjoyed  it  to  the  echo.  I  recalled  that  often  of  an 
evening  my  enemy  replenished  his  larder  with  an  ex- 
penditure of  Number  Four  shot.  It  was  funny,  and 
when  I  reached  the  palace  I  was  trembling  with  the 
reverberations  of  the  absurd  climax  to  my  fears. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  317 

L'Hermier  des  Plantes  was  dancing  opposite  Many 
Daughters  a  hura-hura,  and  Song  of  the  Nightingale 
was  fetching  cold  water  from  the  brook  to  water  the 
wine,  in  the  temperate  French  way. 

"Hola!"  called  out  the  governor.  "Come  in,  mon 
ami!  Sit  down  and  have  a  goutte  de  Pernod.  You 
are  jolly.  What?  Ybu  met  Peyral,  and  he  shot  not 
you  but  a  kuku?  O  lalala!  You  give  me  back  the 
Browning?  All  right.  You  could  not  have  done  much 
harm  with  it.  See,  the  cartridges  are  blanks  for  firing 
a  salute  on  the  Fall  of  the  Bastille  fete.  O  saprisW. 
It  is  droll!     I  will  die!" 

He  held  his  stomach  while  he  laughed  and  laughed. 
I  grinned  with  fury. 

"What  the  devil  is  the  drolerie?**  I  questioned, 
earnestly. 

The  governor  wiped  his  eyes,  and  emptied  his  glass. 

'^Attendez!"  he  answered.  You  were  not  in  any 
great  danger  or  I  would  have  come  to  your  rescue. 
You  know  I  have  here  a  dossier  of  every  one  in  these 
islands  who  has  been  complained  against,  or  has  com- 
plained. The  first  week  I  was  here  Peyral  declared 
that  Commissaire  Bauda  had  insulted  his  daughter,  and 
that  he  must  marry  her  or  he  would  kill  him.  Bauda 
denied  the  charge,  and  Peyral  did  nothing.  Then  I 
opened  his  dossier,  and  in  two  years  he  had  made  three 
such  charges,  one  against  a  professor  who  was  here  a 
month,  and  one  against  Le  Brunnec.  C^est  curieiuv. 
The  man  is  mad  with  alcohol,  but  more  so  with  a  deter- 
mination to  marry  that  stark  daughter  of  his  to  a  white 
man  who  might  take  her  away.  Others  have  been  elim- 
inated after  such  foolishness  as  this.     See,  there  was  no 


318  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

one  but  you.  Lutz  is  after  higher  game,  and  besides  he 
is  a  German,  and  Peyral  hates  him.  Voild,  mon 
gar^on.  You  were  the  parti  inevitable.  It  is  strange 
the  way  he  goes  about  getting  a  son-in-law.  One 
might  expect  a  dot,  or  a  little  hospitahty,  but  no,  he 
runs  true  to  type,  and  he  is  not  a  chic  type.  But, 
c'est  fini.  He  has  tried  and  failed.  You  have  met  him, 
and  knocked  him  down,  and  now  you  know  his  gun  is 
for  kuku.  Well,  we  will  drink  to  the  health  of  the 
pauvre  diable,  and  a  good  husband  for  the  girl.  But 
not  you,  eh?" 

I  drank  with  as  much  grace  as  I  could,  but  when  I 
walked  in  the  upper  valley  at  dusk,  and  was  alone  by 
the  paepae  tapu,  the  shattered  and  grown-over  temple 
of  the  old  Marquesan  gods,  I  could  have  cried  for  pity 
for  that  girl. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

In  the  vallQT  of  Vaitahu— With  Vanquished  Often  and  Seventh  Men  He 
Is  So  Angry  He  wallows  in  the  Mire — Worship  of  beauty  in  the  South 
Seas — ^Like  the  ancient  Greeks — Care  of  the  body — Preparations  for 
a  belle's  d^but — Massage  as  a  cure  for  ills. 

ACROSS  the  Bordelaise  Channel  from  Atuona, 
many  hours  of  sailing  in  an  outrigger  canoe, 
lay  the  island  of  Tahuata.  Its  principal  settle- 
ment was  Vaitahu,  and  there  I  went  with  Exploding 
Eggs,  my  adopted  brother  of  fourteen,  to  stay  awhile 
in  the  house  of  the  chief.  Seventh  Man  Who  Is  So 
Angry  He  Wallows  in  the  Mire,  as  Neo  Efitu,  his  short 
name,  meant.  Atuona  personified  the  brooding  spirit 
of  melancholy  that  possessed  the  race,  the  shadow  of 
the  white  upon  the  Marquesan  spirit,  but  Vaihatu  had 
as  genus  loci  a  blithe  and  domestic  sprite,  which  had  kept 
the  tiny  village — formerly  of  thousands — in  the  habits 
and  moods  of  the  old  ways.  Waited  on  as  an  honored 
guest  by  the  chief,  his  wife,  and  his  niece.  Vanquished 
Often,  the  friend  and  playmate  of  the  few  score  inhabit- 
ants, I  had  happy  weeks  of  simple  pleasures,  and  of 
intense  interest  in  searching  into  the  past  of  the  Mar- 
quesans,  and  especially  into  their  customs  and  manners 
in  relation  to  esthetics. 

The  only  foreigner  in  the  valley,  by  my  earnest  wish 
and  laughable  example,  life  resumed  for  a  time  much 
of  the  old  Marquesan  method  and  appearance.  The 
mission  church,  the  first  Christian  edifice  within  a  thou- 
sand miles,  was  rejoining  the  wilderness.    Without 

319 


320  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

clergy  or  adherent,  its  walls  were  fast  falling  into  decay, 
and  its  precisely-planned  garden  was  jungle.  The  art- 
ist-schoolmaster, Le  Moine,  who  had  taught  Vaitahu's 
children  to  say,  ''La  France  est  le  plus  hon  pays  du 
monde/'  was  gone  to  seek  other  models  for  painting  as 
ravishing  as  Yanquished  Often,  or  men  as  majestic  as 
Kahuiti,  the  cannibal  of  Taaoa.  Existence,  almost  as 
devoid  of  invention  and  artificiality  as  before  the  white 
came,  I  was  able  to  rebuild  in  my  mind  the  structure  of 
Marquesan  taste,  and  to  view  in  imagination  the  attrac- 
tive aspect  of  Vaitahu  in  its  idyllic  days  of  old.  We 
brought  out  of  the  chests  the  native  garments  of  tapa, 
and  we  lived  as  much  as  possible — like  children  playing 
Indians — a  perspective  of  the  past. 

I  looked  from  my  mat  upon  the  paepae  of  Seventh 
Man  Who  Wallows  to  see  Vanquished  Often  by  the 
Vai  Puna,  the  spring  of  Vaitahu.  She  had  taken  off 
her  ahu  or  tunic  of  pink  muslin  and  bent  over  to  receive 
the  full  stream  of  cool  water  from  the  hills  which  flowed 
through  the  bamboo  pipes.  Her  beautiful  body,  the 
blood  mantling  under  her  silken  skin,  perfect  in  devel- 
opment at  thirteen  years,  glowed  in  the  dazzling  light 
and  under  the  silvery  cascade,  and  her  long,  unconfined 
hair  shone  red-gold  in  the  sunbeams.  My  mind  reverted 
to  the  descriptions  of  the  women,  the  men,  and  the 
scenes  described  by  these  who  voyaged  here  decades  ago. 

Not  any  people  in  all  the  world,  ancient  or  modern, 
ranked  human  beauty  higher  in  the  list  of  life's  gifts 
than  did  the  people  of  these  islands.  In  the  star-scat- 
tered archipelagos  of  the  Pacific  tropics  a  dozen  tawny 
races  or  breeds  of  superb  physical  endowment  made 
their  bodies  wondrous  temples  for  their  free  souls.     The 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  321 

loveliness  and  grace  of  women,  the  symmetry  and 
strength  of  men,  were,  before  the  white  came  to  destroy 
them,  the  fascinating  labor  of  their  days,  their  vivid 
religion,  and  the  expression  of  their  joy  of  living. 

They  brought  the  culture  of  beauty  and  the  rhythm  of 
motion  to  an  unequaled  perfection,  and  in  the  adorn- 
ment of  their  bodies  and  development  of  their  natural 
attractions  reached  a  pitch  of  splendor  and  artistry 
which,  though  seeming  savage  to  us  of  this  period, 
struck  beholders,  even  of  our  kind,  as  entrancing  and 
marvelous. 

While  all  over  Polynesia  these  conditions  obtained 
when  the  first  Anglo-Saxons  threw  down  the  anchors  of 
their  ships  in  the  enchanting  harbors  of  these  tropics, 
they  remained  longest  in  the  Marquesas  Archipelago. 

In  their  simple  dress,  their  practice  of  manipulation 
in  the  development  of  their  bodies,  their  use  of  scents, 
unguents,  and  lotions,  their  wearing  of  flowers  and  or- 
naments, their  singular  and  astounding  art  of  the  story- 
teller, the  dance  and  the  pantomime,  and  the  exquisite 
tattooing  of  their  persons,  they  showed  a  delicacy  of  feel- 
ing and  an  understanding  of  elegance  unsurpassed  in 
the  records  of  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

As  I  sat  under  the  pandanus  thatch  of  Seventh  Man 
Who  Is  So  Angry  He  Wallows  in  the  Mire,  I  re- 
called what  that  eminent  moralizer,  Lecky,  had  said: 

The  intense  esthetic  enthusiasm  that  prevailed  was  eminently 
fitted  to  raise  the  most  beautiful  to  honor.  In  a  land  and  be- 
neath a  sky  where  natural  beauty  developed  to  the  highest 
point,  supreme  physical  perfection  was  crowned  by  an  assembled 
people.  In  no  other  period  of  the  world's  history  was  the  ad- 
miration of  beauty  in  all  its  forms  so  passionate  or  so  universal. 


322  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

It  colored  the  whole  moral  teaching  of  the  time,  and  led  the 
chief  moralists  to  regard  virtue  simply  as  the  highest  kind  of 
supersensual  beauty.  It  led  the  wife  to  pray,  before  all  other 
prayers,  for  the  beauty  of  her  children.  The  courtesan  was 
often  the  queen  of  beauty. 

Lecky  wrote  that  of  ancient  Greece  to  contrast  it 
with  the  morals  of  the  Europe  of  his  day,  but  I  con- 
sidered the  striking  likeness  between  the  condition  he 
described  and  the  attitude  of  the  ancient  Marquesans. 
Here  in  these  tiny  islands,  separated  by  ten  thousand 
miles  of  billow  from  the  land  of  Pericles  and  Aspasia,  a 
people  whose  origin  was  only  guessed  at  by  science, 
erected  the  same  goal  of  attainment,  and  like  standards 
of  harmony  of  form  and  movement.  Doubtless  at  that 
very  day  these  Greeks  of  the  tropics,  considering  their 
environment,  most  distant  from  the  birthplace  of  hu- 
manity and  from  the  example  of  other  peoples,  were 
comparable  in  brilliancy  of  person  and  ease  of  motion  to 
the  Homeric  figures. 

The  American  sea-fighter.  Captain  David  Porter, 
who  ran  up  the  Stars  and  Stripes  in  the  breadfruit 
groves  of  these  islands,  said: 

The  men  of  the  Marquesas  are  remarkably  handsome,  of 
large  stature  and  well-proportioned ;  they  possess  every  variety 
of  countenance  and  feature,  and  a  great  difference  is  observable 
in  the  color  of  the  skin,  which  for  the  most  part  is  of  a  copper 
color.  But  some  are  as  fair  as  the  generality  of  working  people 
much  exposed  to  the  sun  of  a  warm  climate. 

The  young  girls  were  handsome  and  well-formed ;  their  skins 
were  remarkably  soft  and  smooth  and  their  complexions  no 
darker  than  many  brunettes  in  America,  celebrated  for  their 
beauty.     Their  modesty  was  more  evident  than  that  of  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  323 

women  of  any  place  we  had  visited  since  leaving  our  own 
country;  and  if  they  suffered  themselves  (though  with  appar- 
ent timidity  and  reluctance)  to  be  presented  naked  to  strangers, 
may  it  not  be  in  compliance  with  a  custom  which  taught  them 
to  sacrifice  to  hospitality  all  that  is  most  estimable? 

Why,  and  how  had  this  strange  race,  so  far  from 
others'  strivings,  attained  so  singular  a  state  of  natural 
beauty  that  discoverer  after  discoverer  and  diarist  after 
diarist,  from  the  bloody  Spaniard,  Mendana,  to  the 
gentle  Louis  Stevenson,  set  it  down  as  the  "handsomest 
on  earth?" 

One  must  guess  at  the  beginnings  of  the  Marquesans. 
Scientists  make  explorations  to  find  the  route  of  the 
Caucasian  people  who  thousands  of  years  ago — maybe, 
before  the  Hebrews  deserted  Jehovah  for  Baal-Peor 
— ^migrated  through  the  unknown  and  fearsome  wastes 
of  ocean  toward  these  misty  islands  of  the  far  south. 
What  equipment  of  body  and  soul  they  brought  with 
them  we  do  not  know,  but  they  were  or  became  the  mas- 
ters of  their  seas,  and  in  their  frail  canoes  dared  even 
the  long  voyage  to  New  Zealand  and  to  Hawaii,  when 
Europeans  and  Asiatics  in  keeled  ships  crept  carefully 
about  their  own  coasts,  or  crossed  the  Mediterranean 
Sea  only  within  the  threatening  Pillars  of  Hercules. 

During  the  thousands  of  years  the  Marquesans  were 
separated  from  Europe  they  developed  a  policy  of  gov- 
ernment, a  paternalistic  democracy,  or  communism, 
which  was  perfectly  adapted  to  their  nature  and  sur- 
roundings. A  very  large  part  of  it  was  concerned  with 
beauty,  manners,  and  entertainment,  with  personal 
decoration,  carving  of  stone  and  wood,  building  of 
temples  and  houses,  oratory,  dances,  and  chants.     All 


324  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

of  these  were  carefully  regulated  by  cults,  gilds,  and 
tapus.  They  must  have  been  an  extremely  prolonged 
growth,  for  they  had  come  to  a  fixed  standard  of  de- 
tail and  exactness,  and  an  acme  of  art,  bizarre  and 
exotic  as  it  was,  that  could  have  been  but  the  minute 
accretion  of  many  centuries.  When  the  first  explorers 
came  into  the  uncharted  spaces  of  these  warm  seas,  they 
found  a  culture  totally  beyond  the  understanding  of 
most  of  them,  and  abhorrent  to  state  and  church,  but 
which  a  few  fine  souls  glimpsed  as  an  astonishing  rev- 
elation of  the  natural  development  of  the  human, 
and,  by  foil,  of  the  decadence  of  civilization.  They 
found  health  and  high  spirits  abounding  to  a  degree 
utterly  strange  to  them,  the  hardiest  and  most  adven- 
turous of  Europeans  and  Americans,  and  they  were 
provoked  by  the  innocence,  radiance,  and  naturalness 
of  the  women. 

This  Edenic  condition  astounded  the  Yankee  Porter, 
who  went  to  sea  at  sixteen,  and  who  slew  scores  of  Mar- 
quesans,   for  he  put  in  his  log: 

The  Hawaiians,  Tahitians,  and  New  Zealanders  had  by 
residence  among  whites  become  corrupt;  they  had  fallen  into 
their  vices  and  ate  the  same  food.  They  were  no  longer  in 
a  state  of  nature;  they  had,  like  us,  become  corrupt,  and 
while  the  honest,  guileless  faces  of  the  Marquesans  shone  with 
benevolence,  good  nature  and  intelligence,  the  downcast  eye 
and  sullen  look  of  the  others  marked  their  inferiority  and  de- 
generacy. Guilt,  of  which  by  intercourse  with  us  they  had 
become  sensible,  had  already  marked  their  countenances. 
Every  emanation  of  their  souls  could  not  be  perceived  upon 
their  countenances  as  with  those  of  the  naked  Marquesans. 

War,  murder,  mutiny,  desertion,  and  horrible  orgies 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  325 

marked  the  reaction  of  these  forecastle  denizens,  scour- 
ings  of  slums  and  dull  villages,  to  the  spontaneity,  ease, 
and  liberty  they  found  here,  in  contrast  with  their  ugly 
and  restricted  lives  aboard  ship  or  in  the  hard  chmes  and 
rough  grooves  of  their  homes.  The  sight  of  such  in- 
tense individual  happiness,  glowing  vitality,  and  ex- 
quisite bodies,  of  a  cooperative  existence  without  kings 
or  commoners,  business  or  money,  palaces  or  hovels, 
disease  or  dirt,  prudery  or  prostitutes,  shocked  them  by 
the  abrupt  differences  from  their  own  countries.  They 
wrote  the  Marquesans  down  as  barbarians,  as  the 
Greeks  did  the  Romans;  and  church,  government,  and 
trade  made  haste  to  hack  down  their  achievement,  and 
to  make  over  the  pieces  as  the  wretched  patchwork  of 
their  own  hands.  They  hated  it,  subconsciously,  for 
its  giving  the  lie  to  their  own  boasted  institutions. 
They  ended  it  that  it  might  not  mock  the  degradation 
and  futility  of  their  own  conduct  and  the  opposition  be- 
tween their  decalogue  and  their  deeds.  The  merchant 
condemned  and  altered  it  to  make  a  market  for  what  it 
did  not  then  need  or  desire. 

The  first  approach  to  change  after  subjugation  and 
conversion  was  through  clothing,  because  the  most  obvi- 
ous difference  between  the  whites  and  the  browns  was 
that  the  latter  largely  exposed  their  bodies.  The  mis- 
sionary paved  the  way  for  the  dealer  who  had  cottons 
to  sell  by  saying  that  God  abhorred  nakedness.  Liv- 
ingston himself  acted  likewise.  The  Marquesans,  in 
truth,  had  a  small  variety  of  clothing.  Much  of  the 
time  both  sexes  wore  only  the  single  garment,  the  pareu 
or  loin-cloth.  Their  clothes  of  Tapa  or  bark  were,  ex- 
cept mattings,  the  only  stuffs  made  by  the  Marquesans. 


326  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

They  were  of  a  remarkable  texture  and  coloring,  con- 
sidering the  materials  available.  The  inner  barks  of 
the  banian,  breadfruit,  and  particularly  the  mulberry 
trees  were  used.  The  outer  rind  was  scraped  off  with 
a  shell,  and  the  inner  slightly  beaten  and  allowed  to 
ferment.  It  was  then  beaten  over  wooden  forms  with 
clubs  of  ironwood  about  eighteen  inches  long,  grooved 
coarsely  on  one  side  and  finely  on  the  reverse,  a  process 
that  united  so  closely  the  fibers  that  in  the  finished  cloth 
one  could  not  guess  the  processes  of  its  making. 
Bleached  in  the  sun  on  the  beaches  to  a  dazzling  white, 
this  fabric  was  either  dyed  black  or  brown,  yellow  or 
red,  or  fashioned  as  it  was  into  the  few  varieties  of  gar- 
ments they  affected.  All  wore  the  pareu  about  the 
loins;  a  strip  two  yards  or  more  in  length,  and  a  yard 
wide,  which  is  passed  twice  about  the  waist  and  tucked 
in  for  holding,  as  the  sarong  of  the  Malay.  It  hangs 
above  the  knees,  and  like  the  fundoshi  of  Japan,  worn 
by  royalty  and  beggar,  is  capable,  for  strenuous  move- 
ments, such  as  swimming,  of  being  gathered  up  to  form 
a  diaper  or  breech-cloth. 

The  cahu  or  ahu^  a  long  and  flowing  piece  of  tapa, 
was  worn  by  the  females,  hanging  from  the  shoulders, 
knotted  about  or  covering  one  or  both  breasts  at  the 
whim  of  the  wearer.  For  the  coloring  of  this  and  the 
pareu,  rich  and  alluring  dyes  were  found  in  the  plants 
and  trees  and  even  the  sea-animals  of  the  beaches.  The 
outlines  of  the  hibiscus  flowers  and  carven  objects  were 
imprinted  upon  these  tapas,  and  astronomical,  mystic, 
or  tribal  signs  or  records  drawn  upon  them  in  fantastic 
but  artistic  design. 

The  method  of  wearing  the  cahu  for  hiding  or  dis- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  32T 

closing  the  charms  of  the  female  was  as  varied  as  the 
toilettes  of  Parisian  fashion.  The  conceit  of  the  girl 
or  woman,  the  occasion,  and  the  weather  decided  its  be- 
ing draped  in  any  one  of  a  score  of  manners.  A  belle 
might  think  it  ungenerous  to  cover  too  much,  and  an 
old  or  homely  woman  find  the  entire  surface  too  scant. 
When  human  nature  has  freest  fling,  prudery  is  the 
fig-leaf  of  ugliness,  here,  as  in  the  salon  of  Mayfair,  or 
behind  the  footlights  of  Broadway. 

For  the  men,  while  the  pareu,  always  as  now,  was  the 
common  apparel,  they  had  a  hundred  ornaments,  in  a 
diversity  more  numerable  than  those  of  the  females. 
Whenever  man  has  not  sacrificed  his  masculine  craving 
for  adornment  to  religious  or  economic  pressure,  he  is 
the  gaudier  of  the  sexes.  From  the  fiddler-crab  with 
his  rampant  claw  to  the  mandrill  with  his  crimson  and 
lilac  callosities,  nature  has  so  ordained  it,  and  man  re- 
joiced in  his  privilege.  Not  until  European  man  felt 
the  iron  hand  of  the  machine  age,  when  the  rifle  dis- 
placed the  bow  and  the  pistol  the  sword,  the  factory  the 
home  loom,  and  the  foundry  the  smithy;  not  until  money 
became  the  chief  pursuit  of  all  ranks,  and  puritanism  a 
general  blight  upon  brilliancy  of  costume,  did  the  white 
man  relinquish  his  gewgaws  to  the  parasitic  woman. 
Then  he  made  it  a  vicarious  pride  by  decorating  her  with 
his  riches  and  making  her  the  vehicle  of  his  pomp  in  or- 
nature,  and  the  advertisement  of  his  prosperity. 

The  Marquesans,  struck  by  the  glitter  of  brass  but- 
tons and  gold  braid,  of  broadcloth  and  fur,  unfamiliar 
with  metal,  and  admiring  everything  foreign,  fell  facile 
victims  to  vestures,  and  when  the  new-fangled  religions 
that  followed  hot  upon  the  discoverers,  enforced  cover- 


328  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ing  by  dogma  and  even  by  punishment,  they  clothed 
themselves  and  sweated  in  fashion  and  sanctity.  But 
clothes  irk  the  Marquesans  as  they  do  all  people  living 
close  to  a  kindly  nature.  Our  own  babes  resent  even  the 
swaddles  which  bind  them  in  the  cradle.  The  first  years 
of  childhood  are  a  continuing  struggle  against  gar- 
ments, until,  having  lost  plasticity  and  the  instant  re- 
sponse of  muscle  to  mind  that  distinguishes  the  Marque- 
sans, the  result  is  rationalized  by  adolescents  into  mod- 
esty and  convention.  After  youth,  clothing  is  wel- 
comed by  us  to  enhance  imperfect  charms  and  to  hide 
defects,  to  screen  our  unhandsome  and  puny  bodies. 
The  lean  shanks,  protuberant  abdomens,  and  anatomi- 
cal grotesqueries  in  a  public  bath  bear  witness  to  our 
sacrifice.  Marriage  is  often  a  disclosure  of  unguessed 
flaws. 

"The  gods  are  naked  and  in  the  open,"  said  Seneca. 

Pigalle  sculptured  the  frail  old  Voltaire  in  the  nude, 
yet  attained  dignity.  Even  Broadway  smiles  at 
frocked  heroes  in  bronze,  and  must  have  its  ideals  in 
marble  or  bronze  undraped. 

How  often,  when  I  lived  at  the  spacious  home  of  my 
friend,  Ariioehau  Ameroearao,  the  chief  at  Mataiea  in 
Tahiti,  I  have  seen  him,  chevalier  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor,  come  in  from  the  highway  in  stiff  white  linen  or 
in  religious  black,  and  in  a  twinkling  reduce  his  garb  to 
a  loin-cloth! 

His  walls  were  hung  with  portraits  of  princes  and 
distinguished  travelers,  guests  of  his  in  the  past  score  of 
years,  and  none  was  more  distinguished,  though  in  bril- 
liant uniform  and  gorgeously  decorated,  than  the  old 
chief  in  his  strip  of  cotton  print. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  329 

"Three  kings  naked  have  I  seen,  and  never  a  sign  of 
royalty,"  said  the  cynical  Bismarck. 

Plato  understood  very  well  the  spirit  in  which  the 
Polynesians  were  clothed  by  the  whites,  the  crass  pru- 
rience that  pointed  out  to  them  the  wickedness  of  nudity, 
that  hid  their  beautiful  bodies  under  tunics  and  panta- 
loons, that  laughed  at  their  simplicity. 

In  the  "Republic"  he  says: 

Not  long  since  it  was  thought  discreditable  and  ridiculous 
among  the  Greeks,  as  it  is  now  among  most  barbarian  nations, 
for  men  to  be  seen  naked.  And  when  the  Cretans  first,  and 
after  them  the  Lacedaemonians,  began  the  practice  of  gymnas- 
tic exercises,  the  wits  of  the  time  had  it  in  their  power  to 
make  sport  of  those  novelties.  But  when  experience  has  shown 
that  it  was  better  to  strip  than  to  cover  up  the  body  and  when 
the  ridiculous  effect  that  this  plan  had  to  the  eye  had  given 
way  before  the  arguments  establishing  its  superiority,  it  was  at 
the  same  time,  as  I  imagine,  demonstrated  that  he  is  a  fool 
who  thinks  anything  ridiculous  but  that  which  is  evil,  and  who 
attempts  to  raise  a  laugh  by  assuming  any  object  to  be  ridic- 
ulous but  that  which  is  unwise  and  evil. 

The  Marquesans,  perfect  animals,  had  their  senses 
extraordinarily  attuned  to  the  faintest  vibrations  of 
value  to  their  survival  or  delight.  They  heard  sounds 
plainly  that  I,  with  rather  better  than  ordinary  civilized 
hearing,  did  not  catch.  I  was  with  Vanquished  Often 
when  she  spoke  to  Exploding  Eggs  two  hundred  feet 
away  in  a  conversational  tone.  I  tested  them,  and 
found  they  could  talk  with  each  other  intelligibly  when 
I  heard  but  an  indistinct  whisper  from  the  farthest.  So 
with  smell.  Ghost  Girl  and  Mouth  of  God,  my  neigh- 
bor at  Atuona,  could  detect  any  intimates  by  their 


330  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

odor  in  pitch  darkness  at  twenty  feet,  though  Marque- 
sans,  because  they  have  little  bodily  hair  and  are  the 
cleanest  people  I  know,  have  less  personal  odor  than  we. 
They  enjoyed  life  through  scent  infinitely  more  than 
do  we.  They  had  no  kisses  but  rubbed  noses  and 
smelled  each  other  with  indrawings  of  their  breath. 
Odoriferous  herbs,  flowers,  and  seeds  were  continually 
about  their  necks,  both  men  and  women,  tucked  behind 
their  ears,  or  in  their  hair,  and  their  bodies  after  bathings 
were  anointed  with  the  hinano-scenied  cocoanut-oil. 
Their  noses  were  sources  of  sensuous  enjoyment  to  them 
beyond  my  capability.  They  inhaled  emanations  from 
flowers  too  subtle  to  touch  my  olfactory  nerves. 

The  Marquesan  woman  has  ever  been  an  arch-co- 
quette, paying  infinite  attention  to  her  appearance,  and 
enduring  pain  and  ennui  to  improve  her  beauty.  Her 
complexion  was  as  much  a  pride  as  with  a  fashionable 
American  woman  to-day.  The  beauty  parlors  of  our 
cities  were  matched  by  the  steam  baths,  the  use  of  saf- 
fron, of  oils,  and  of  massage,  and  by  weeks  or  even 
months  of  preparation  before  some  great  festival.  To 
burst  upon  the  assembled  clan,  white  as  the  sea-foam, 
with  skin  as  smooth  as  a  polished  calabash,  hair  oiled 
and  wreathed,  and  body  rounded  from  dancing  practice 
and  much  sleep,  and  to  set  beating  wildly  the  pulses  of 
the  young  men,  so  that,  strive  as  they  might  to  remain 
mute,  they  would  be  forced  to  yield  mad  plaudits,  was 
a  result  worth  months  of  effort.  To  be  the  belle  of  the 
ball  was  a  distinction  a  woman  remembered  a  lifetime. 
It  was  an  honor  comparable  to  the  warrior's  wounds,  or 
possession  of  the  heads  of  the  enemies.  Parents  felt 
keenly  the  success  of  their  daughters.     Titihuti  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  831 

others  have  told  me  of  their  triumphs,  as  Bernhardt  or 
Patti  might  recite  of  packed  houses  and  a  score  of  en- 
cores. 

A  curious  secrecy  or  modesty  was  attached  to  the 
making  of  the  toilet  and  the  enhancement  of  the  natural 
charms.  No  Marquesan  or  Tahitian  or  Hawaiian 
would  ever  have  looked  at  herself  in  a  portable  mirror — 
if  she  had  one — as  do  many  of  our  females,  and  the  whit- 
ening and  reddening  of  cheeks  and  lips  in  public  places 
would  have  caused  a  blush  of  shame  for  her  sex  to  suf- 
fuse the  face  of  a  Marquesan,  to  whom  such  intimate 
gestures  were  for  the  privacy  of  her  home  or  the  bank 
of  the  limpid  stream  in  a  grove  dedicated  to  the  Mar- 
quesan Venus. 

Near  Tahiti  was  the  atoll  of  Tetuaroa  where  for  hun- 
dreds of  years  the  belles  of  Tahiti  resorted  to  lose  their 
sunburn  in  the  bowered  groves  and  to  spend  a  season  in 
beautification  by  banting,  special  foods,  dancing,  swim- 
ming, massage,  baths,  oils,  and  lotions. 

Here  in  the  Marquesas,  as  in  all  Polynesia,  a  period 
of  voluntary  seclusion  preceded  the  debut  of  the  maiden, 
or  the  preparation  for  a  special  pas  seul  by  a  noted 
beauty. 

Seclusion  of  the  girl  was  practiced  at  the  time  of 
puberty.  It  has  a  curious  analogy  in  such  far  separated 
places  as  Torres  Straits  and  British  Columbia,  one  Aus- 
tralasia and  the  other  North  America.  The  girls  of  a 
tribe  in  Torres  Straits  are  hidden  for  three  months  be- 
hind a  circle  of  bushes  in  their  parent's  house  at  the  first 
signs  of  womanhood.  No  sim  must  reach  them,  and  no 
man,  even  though  he  be  the  father,  enter  the  house,  nor 
must  they  feed  themselves.     The  Nootkas  of  British 


332  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Columbia  also  conceal  their  nubile  virgins,  and  insist 
that  they  touch  their  own  bodies  for  a  period  only  with 
a  comb  or  a  bone,  never  laying  their  hands  upon  it. 

It  would  seem  that  all  this  mystery  had  the  same  pur- 
pose, that  of  adding  to  the  attractiveness  of  the  girls  and 
heightening  the  romance  of  their  new  condition.  Our 
coming-out  parties  parallel  the  goal  of  these  strange 
peoples,  announcements,  formal  introductions,  as  bril- 
liant as  possible,  being  considered  desirable  both  among 
savages  and  ourselves  to  give  notice  of  a  marriageable 
state.  Our  debuts  have  not  departed  far  from  aborig- 
inal ideas. 

The  Junoesque  wife  of  Seventh  Man  Who  Wallows 
had  just  come  from  the  via  puna  in  her  accustomed  bath- 
ing attire,  and,  still  dripping,  seated  herself  in  the  sun 
near  me  to  dry.  She  had  added  a  jasmine  blossom  to 
the  heavy  gold  hoops  in  her  ears  and  had  lit  her  pipe, 
and  her  handsome,  large  face  was  twisted  between  smiles 
and  frowns  as  she  tried  to  put  in  understandable  words 
and  gestures  her  recital  of  these  customs: 

"Our  girls,  daughters  of  chiefs,  such  as  I  am,  were 
kept  hidden  for  months  before  we  appeared  for  the  first 
time  in  public  in  the  tribal  dance.  The  tapu  was  strict. 
We  were  secret  in  our  mother's  house  and  inclosure, 
without  supposedly  even  being  seen  by  any  one  but  our 
relatives  and  their  retainers.  It  was  death  to  gaze  upon 
us.  We  were  tapu  tapu.  If  we  had  cause  to  go  out, 
our  official  guardian  blew  a  conch-shell  to  warn  all  from 
the  neighborhood.  Not  until  the  day  of  the  dance  or 
marriage  ceremony,  not  until  the  feast  was  spread  and 
the  accepted  suitor  present  to  claim  us,  or  the  drums 
booming  for  the  dance,  were  we  shown  to  the  multitude ; 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  333 

we  had  had  months  of  omi  omi,  and  would  be  in  perfect 
condition  and  most  beautiful." 

It  was  this  omi  omi,  or  massage,  that  many  of  the  ear- 
lier chroniclers  of  the  South  Seas  believed  to  be  the 
cause  of  the  chiefs  and  headmen  of  all  these  islands  be- 
ing much  bigger  and  handsomer  than  the  common  peo- 
ple. The  hakaikij  or  chiefs,  men  and  women,  through- 
out Polynesia  astonished  the  voyagers  and  missionaries 
by  their  huge  size.  Often  they  were  from  four  to  six 
inches  above  six  feet  tall,  and  framed  in  proportion. 
Hardly  a  writing  sailor  or  visitor  to  Hawaii,  Tahiti, 
Samoa,  or  the  Marquesas  but  remarks  this  striking  fact. 
Many  thought  these  headmen  a  different  race  than  the 
others,  but  scientists  know  that  family,  food,  and  the  cu- 
rious effect  of  the  strenuous  massage  from  infancy  ac- 
count for  the  differences.  The  omi  omi  of  these  islands, 
the  tarumi  of  Tahiti,  and  the  lomi  lomi  of  the  Hawaiians 
all  have  a  relation  to  the  momi-ryoji,  practiced  by  the 
tens  of  thousands  of  whistling  bhnd  itinerants  through- 
out Japan. 

I  had  a  remarkable  illustration  of  the  curative  merits 
of  omi  omi  when,  having  bruised  my  back  by  awkward- 
ness in  sliding  down  a  rocky  waterfall  into  a  once  ta- 
booed pool  with  Vanquished  Often  and  Exploding 
Eggs,  I  submitted  myself  to  the  ministrations  of  Juno 
and  Vanquished  Often.  They  would  have  me  in  the 
glare  of  the  early  morning  sun  on  Seventh  Man's  pae- 
pae,  and  there  were  gales  of  laughter  as  they  shouted 
out  my  physical  differences  from  the  Marquesans,  my 
excellences,  and  my  blemishes.  On  one  side  and  on 
the  other,  both  squatted,  they  handled  me  as  if  they  un- 
derstood the  locations  of  each  muscle  and  nerve.     They 


334  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

pinched  and  pulled,  pressed  and  hammered,  and  other- 
wise took  hold  of  and  struck  me,  but  all  with  a  most 
remarkable  skill  and  seeming  exact  knowledge  of  their 
method  and  its  results.  I  was  in  agony  over  their  treat- 
ment of  me,  but  after  a  day  as  well  as  ever. 

Before  I  was  given  the  omi  omi,  I  was  bathed  by  the 
two  ladies  with  a  care  and  nicety  not  to  be  bought  at  our 
best  hammams.  A  tiny  penthouse  was  made  quickly 
of  cocoanut-leaves,  and  in  this  was  placed  a  great 
wooden  trencher  of  water  in  which  white  hot  stones  were 
dropped.  On  a  tiny  stool  I  sat  in  the  resulting  steam, 
the  delicious  odor  of  kakaa  leaves  thrown  into  the  boil- 
ing water  aiding  the  vapor  in  effect  on  skin  and  nerves. 
Quite  ten  minutes  I  was  compelled  to  remain  in  the 
penthouse,  my  fair  jailers  remaining  obdurate  outside 
despite  my  imploring  cries  to  be  released,  my  protesta- 
tions that  I  was  being  dissolved  and  would  emerge  a 
thing  of  shreds  and  patches.  When  I  could  not  have 
stood  it  another  second,  my  lungs  bursting  with  re- 
straint, and  my  body  hot  enough  to  hurt  my  nervously 
caressing  hands,  I  was  suddenly  let  out  and  hurried  to 
the  beach,  where  Vanquished  Often  rushed  with  me  into 
the  beating  surf. 

The  sea  seemed  cold  as  an  Adirondack  lake,  and  I  was 
for  swimming  beyond  the  breakers  in  fullest  enjoyment 
of  the  relief,  but  my  doctors  would  not  allow  me  another 
minute  and  hand  in  hand  rushed  me  to  the  chief's  pae^ 
pae,  now  my  own,  for  my  lenitive  kneading.  The 
bruises  I  had  got  in  my  awkward  essay  to  emulate  the 
agility  of  Exploding  Eggs  and  Vanquished  Often  were 
deep  and  painful,  but  after  half  an  hour  of  their  pound- 
ing I  fell  asleep  and  remained  unconscious  six  hours. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  335 

I  was  to  myself  a  celestial  musical  instrument,  a  human 
xylophone,  from  which  houris  struck  notes  that  made 
the  stars  whirl,  and  to  the  music  of  which  Vanquished 
Often  danced  in  the  purple  moonlight  upon  a  milky 
cloud.  Their  cessation  of  the  omi  omi  woke  me.  It 
was  past  noon  when  I  joined  them  and  the  whole  merry 
populace  of  Vaitahu  in  the  warm  ocean  waves.  I  was 
without  pain  or  stiffness,  and  reborn  to  a  childhood  I 
had  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Skilled  tattooers  of  Marquesas  Islands  a  generation  ago — Entire  bodies 
covered  with  intricate  tattooed  designs — Tiie  foreigner  who  had  him- 
self tattooed  to  win  the  favor  of  a  Marquesan  beauty — The  magic 
that  removed  the  markings  when  he  was  recalled  to  his  former  life 
in  England. 

TATTOOING,  the  marking  of  designs  on  the 
human  skin  in  life,  is  an  art  so  old  that  its  be- 
ginnings are  lost  to  records.  It  was  practised 
when  the  Neolithic  brute  went  out  to  club  his  fellows 
and  drag  in  his  body  to  the  fire  his  mate  kept  ever  burn- 
ing. Its  origin,  perhaps,  was  contemporaneous  with 
vanity,  and  that  was  in  the  heart  of  man  before  he 
branched  from  the  missing  limb  of  evolution.  It  per- 
haps followed  in  the  procession  of  art  the  rude  scratch- 
ings  on  bone  and  daubing  on  rock.  In  the  caves  of 
Europe  with  these  childish  distortions  are  found  the  im- 
plements with  which  the  savage  whites  who  lived  in  the 
recesses  of  the  rocks  tattooed  their  bodies.  The  Jews 
were  forbidden  by  Moses  to  tattoo  themselves,  and  the 
Arabs,  with  whom  they  had  much  converse,  yet  prac- 
tise it.  In  1066  William  of  Malmesbury  said  that  the 
English  "adorned  their  skins  with  punctured  designs." 
Kingsley,  with  regard  for  accuracy,  makes  Hereward 
the  Wake,  son  of  the  Lady  Godiva,  have  blue  tattooing 
marks  on  wrists,  throat,  and  knee ;  a  cross  on  his  throat 
and  a  bear  on  the  back  of  his  hand.  The  Romans  found 
the  Britons  stained  with  woad.     The  taste  for  such 

336 


From  an  old  drawing 

Te  Ipu,  an  old  Marquesan  chief,  showing  tattooing 


The  famous  tattooed  leg  of  Queen  Vaikehu 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  387 

marks  existing  to-day  is  evidenced  by  the  pain  and  price 
paid  by  sailors  and  aristocrats  of  all  white  nations  for 
them.  Tattooing  has  faded  under  clothing  which  covers 
it  and  a  less  personal  civilization  which  condemns  it. 
In  the  Marquesas  Islands  it  reached  its  highest  develop- 
ment, and  here  was  the  most  beautiful  form  of  art  known 
to  the  most  perfect  physical  people  on  earth. 

Until  the  overthrow  of  Marquesan  culture,  the  island 
of  Fatu-hiva  was  the  Florence  of  the  South  Seas.  The 
most  skillful  workers  at  tattooing  as  well  as  carving 
lived  in  its  valleys  of  Oomoa  and  Hanavave.  During 
the  weeks  I  have  resided  in  them  I  delved  into  the  his- 
tory and  curiosities  of  this  most  intimate  of  fine  arts, 
now  expiring  if  not  dead.  Nataro,  the  most  learned 
Marquesan  alive,  took  me  into  its  intricacies  and  made 
me  know  it  for  the  proud,  realistic  performance  it  was, 
a  dry-point  etching  on  a  growing  plate  from  which  no 
prints  were  to  be  made.  Nataro's  wife  had  one  hand 
that  is  as  famous  and  as  admired  in  Fatu-hiva  as  "Mona 
Lisa's"  portrait  in  Paris.  A  famous  tuhuka  wrought 
its  design,  a  man  equal  in  graphic  genius,  relatively, 
to  DUrer  or  Rembrandt.  Age  and  work  had  faded  and 
wrinkled  the  picture,  but  I  can  believe  her  husband  that, 
as  a  young  woman,  when  the  art  was  not  cried  down, 
people  came  from  far  valleys  to  view  it.  I  recalled  the 
right  leg  of  the  late  Queen  Vaekehu,  the  most  notJable 
piece  of  art  in  all  the  Marquesas  until  it  went  with  its 
possessor  into  the  grave  at  Tai-o-hae.  In  late  years 
the  former  queen  of  cannibals  and  last  monarch  of  the 
Marquesas  would  not  show  her  limb — a  modest  attitude 
for  a  recluse  who  lived  with  nuns  and  thought  only  of 
death.     Stevenson  confessed  he  never  saw  it  above  the 


338  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ankle,  though  the  queen  dined  with  him  on  the  Casco. 
He  had  a  poet's  delicacy,  an  absolute  lack  of  curiosity, 
and  Mrs.  Stevenson  was  with  him.  But  he  expressed 
a  real  sympathy  for  the  iconoclastic  ignorance  that  was 
destroying  tattooing  here. 

The  queen,  who  had  been  the  prize  of  bloody  feuds 
and  had  danced  at  the  feast  of  "long  pig,"  had  gone  to 
her  reward  after  years  of  beseechment  of  the  Christian 
God  for  mercy,  but  I  could  almost  see  her  once  glorious 
leg  in  the  life  because  of  the  two  of  my  Atuona  mother, 
Titihuti,  which  for  months  have  passed  my  hut  daily. 
They  are  replicas  of  the  Queen's,  said  Nataro,  with  the 
difference  that  Titihuti's,  beginning  at  her  toe  nails, 
reached  a  gorgeous  cincture  at  her  waist,  while  Vae- 
kehu's  did  not  reach  her  hip,  being,  indeed,  a  perma- 
nent stocking.  Some  of  the  Easter  Island  women  had 
an  imitation  of  drawers  delineated  upon  them,  giving 
weight  to  the  theory  that  these  perpetuated  the  idea  of 
clothing  they  wore  in  a  colder  clime,  but  of  which  they 
had  preserved  not  even  a  legend. 

Women  were  seldom  tattooed  above  the  waist,  ex- 
cept their  hands,  and  fine  hnes  about  the  mouth  and 
upon  the  insides  of  the  lips.  This  lip-coloring  was, 
doubtless,  the  efforts  of  invaders  to  make  the  red  lips  of 
the  Caucasian  women,  the  first  Polynesian  immigrants, 
conform  to  the  invaders'  inherited  standards,  as  the 
Manchus  put  the  queue  on  the  Chinese.  The  Marque- 
san  men  like  dark  men.  The  last  conquerors  here  were 
probably  a  darker  race  than  the  conquered,  and  they 
preserved  their  ideals  of  color,  but,  having  come  without 
women  and  seized  the  women  they  found,  they  let  them 
preserve  their  own  standards,  except  for  red  lips,  which 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  339 

they  tattooed  blue.  These  latest  comers  thought  much 
pigment  meant  strong  bones,  and  after  a  battle  they 
searched  the  field  for  the  darkest  bodies  to  furnish  fish- 
hooks and  tools  for  canoe-making  and  carving.  They 
thought  the  whites  who  first  arrived  were  gods,  and 
when  they  found  they  were  men,  with  their  same  pas- 
sions, they  thought  they  were  ill.  That  is  the  first  im- 
pression one  who  lives  long  with  Polynesians  has  when 
he  meets  a  group  of  whites.  They  look  sickly,  sharp- 
faced,  and  worried.  They  pay  dear  for  factories  and 
wheeled  vehicles. 

Very  probably  the  beginning  of  tattooing  was  the 
wish  to  frighten  one's  enemy,  as  masks  were  worn  by 
many  tribes,  and  as  the  American  painted  his  face  with 
ocher.  That  state  was  followed  by  the  natural  desire 
of  the  warrior,  as  evident  yet  as  in  Hector's  day,  to  look 
manly  and  individualistic  before  the  maidens  of  his 
tribe.  And  finally,  as  heraldry  became  complicated, 
tattooing  grew,  at  least  in  Polynesia,  into  a  record  of 
sept  and  individual  accomplishments  and  distinguishing 
marks.  Here  it  had,  as  an  art,  freed  itself  from  the 
bonds  of  religion,  so  that  the  artist  had  liberty  to  draw 
the  Thing  as  he  saw  it,  and  had  not  to  conform  to  priest- 
craft, a  rule  which  probably  hurt  Egyptian  art  greatly. 

In  New  Zealand,  where  the  Polynesians  went  from 
Samoa,  a  sometime  rigorous  climate  demanded  clothing, 
and  the  head  became  the  pidce  de  resistance  of  the  tat- 
tooer.  There  was  a  considerable  trade  among  whites  in 
the  preserved  heads  of  New  Zealanders  until  the  supply 
ran  out.  White  dealers  procured  the  raiding  of  villages 
to  sell  their  victim's  visages.  Museums  and  collectors 
of  such  curios  paid  well  for  these  tattooed  faces,  but  the 


340  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

demand  exhausted  the  best  efforts  of  the  whites.  After 
the  rarest  examples  were  dead  and  smoked,  there  was 
no  stimulating  the  supply.  The  goods  refused  to  be 
manufactured.  The  Solomon  Islands  now  supply 
smoked  human  heads,  but  they  have  no  adornment. 

Birds,  fish,  temples,  trees,  and  plants — all  the  cosmos 
of  the  Marquesan — ^was  a  model  for  the  tuhuka.  He  of- 
ten drew  his  designs  in  charcoal  on  the  skin,  but  some- 
times proceeded  with  his  inking  sans  pattern.  He 
never  copied,  but  drew  from  memory,  though  the  same 
lines  and  tableaux  might  be  repeated  a  thousand  times ; 
and  always  he  bore  in  mind  the  caste,  tribe,  and  sex  of 
the  subject.  Thus  at  a  glance  one  could  tell  the  valley 
and  rank  of  any  one,  much  as  in  Japan  the  station,  age, 
moral  standing,  and  other  artificial  quahties  of  women 
are  indicated  by  their  coiffure  and  ohi,  or  sash. 

The  craft  did  not  require  any  elaborate  tools.  The 
ama  or  candlenut  soot  with  water,  a  graduated  set  of 
bone-needles,  of  human  and  pig  origin,  and  a  mallet 
were  all  the  requirements.  The  paint  or  ink  was  of  but 
one  color,  black  or  brown,  which  on  a  dark  skin  looked 
bluish  and  on  a  fair  skin  black.  The  marking  of  the 
parts  most  delicate  and  sensitive  to  pain,  as  the  eyelids, 
was  a  parcel  of  the  endeavor  to  promote  stoicism  and  to 
show  the  foe  the  mettle  of  his  opponent.  Man  did  not 
consent  for  thousands  of  years  to  share  his  ornamenta- 
tion with  women,  and  then  insisted  that  the  motif  be 
beauty  or  the  accentuation  of  sex. 

The  tattooers,  in  order  to  learn  from  one  another,  to 
have  art  chats,  to  discuss  prices  and  perhaps  dead  beats 
or  slow  payers,  had  societies  or  unions,  in  which  were 
degrees  and  offices,  the  most  favored  in  ability  and  by 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  341 

patronage  being  given  the  highest  rank,  though  now 
and  again  a  white  man,  by  his  superior  magic  and  force, 
though  no  tuhuka  at  all,  held  the  supreme  position. 

A  shark  upon  the  forehead  was  the  card  of  member- 
ship in  the  tattooers'  lodge,  to  which  were  admitted  oc- 
casionally enthusiastic  and  discerning  patrons  of  art. 

At  festival  times,  when  tapus  were  to  some  degree 
suspended  and  the  intertribal  enmities  forgotten  for  the 
nonce,  thousands  of  men,  women,  and  children  gathered 
to  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  and  to  be  tattooed,  as  one  at 
country  fairs  buys  new  dresses  and  trinkets.  It  was 
to  these  fetes  that  the  pot-boilers,  fakers,  and  beginners 
among  the  talent  came;  men  who  would  make  a  sitter  a 
scrawl  for  a  heap  of  pipi,  shells  and  gewgaWs,  a  few 
squealing  pigs,  a  roll  of  tapa,  or,  most  precious  of  all, 
a  whale's  tooth.  Like  our  second-  and  third-class 
painters,  our  wretched  daubers  who  turn  out  canvases 
by  the  foot  (though  hand-painted),  these  tramps,  who, 
by  a  dispensation  of  the  priests  and  a  mocking  provi- 
dence, were  tapu^  not  to  be  attacked  in  any  valley, 
strolled  from  tribe  to  tribe,  promising  much  and  giving 
little.  Some  worked  largely  on  repair  jobs,  doing  over 
spots  where  the  skin  had  been  abraded  by  injuries  in 
battles,  or  by  rocks  or  fire.  The  man  who  was  well 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  tattoo,  or  the  lady  who  was  clothed 
from  toes  to  waist  in  a  washable  peau  de  femme,  kept 
these  garments  in  as  good  condition  as  possible,  but 
when  accident  or  the  fortune  of  war  injured  the  en- 
semble  they  hastened  to  have  it  touched  up. 

An  artist  of  the  first  rank,  one  who  in  a  Marquesan 
salon  would  have  a  medal  of  honor,  disdained  such  com- 
missions, but  dauber  and  South  Sea  Da  Vinci  alike 


342  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

often  had  their  work  hung  upon  the  hne,  when  they  were 
taken  by  the  enemy  and  suspended  at  the  High  Place 
before  being  dropped  into  the  pit  for  the  banquets  of 
the  cannibal  victors. 

It  was  always  of  interest  to  me  to  wonder  how  men 
learned  tattooing.  Painters,  carvers,  etchers,  and 
sculptors  have  material  ever  available  for  their'  lessons. 
They  can  waste  an  infinity  of  canvas,  wood,  copper,  or 
marble  if  they  have  the  money  to  spend,  but  how  about 
the  apprentice  or  student  who  must  have  live.mediums 
even  for  practice? 

Well,  just  as  there  are  Chinese  who,  for  a  considera- 
tion, take  the  place  of  persons  condemned  to  death 
(though  they  do  not,  as  alleged,  make  a  living  out  of  it) , 
and  others  who,  though  it  exhaust  and  finally  kill  them, 
enter  deadly  trades  or  hire  out  for  war,  there  were  Mar- 
quesans  who  offered  themselves  as  kit-cats  for  these  stu- 
dents and  sold  their  surface  at  so  much  an  inch  for  any 
vile  design  or  miserable  execution.  I  can  see  these  fel- 
lows, well  covered  with  tapa,  hiding  whenever  possible 
the  caricatures  and  travesties  that  made  them  a  laugh- 
ing show.  These  Hessians  had  no  pride  in  complexion. 
Their  skins  they  wanted  full  of  food,  nor  cared  at  all 
for  their  outside  if  the  inside  man  was  replete. 

There  were  others  who,  too  poor  to  pay  even  the 
itinerant  wall-painters,  let  the  students  wreak  their 
worst  upon  them,  merely  to  be  tattooed,  good  or  bad, 
and  many  of  these,  like  our  millionaire  picture  buyers, 
were  luckily  denied  any  appreciation  of  art  and  did  not 
know  the  imperfections  of  the  shin  pictures  put  upon 
them. 

"Tattooing  in  these  islands,"  said  Nataro,  "was  usu- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  343 

ally  begun  upon  those  able  to  pay  for  it  at  the  age  of 
puberty;  but  there  were  many  exceptions  of  tattooing 
commenced  upon  boys  soon  after  their  infancy  or  de- 
ferred until  mature  manhood.  Illness,  poverty,  or 
other  obstacle  might  prevent,  and  the  desire  of  parents 
might  cause  early  tattooing.  The  father  or  other  rel- 
ative or  protector  of  the  youth  or  girl  paid  the  tuhuka 
but  at  the  festivals  even  the  very  poor  orphans  were 
given  opportunities  to  be  tattooed  by  a  general  contri- 
bution, or  the  chief  of  the  valley  paid  the  fee.  Years 
were  occupied  at  intervals  in  the  covering  of  the  entire 
body  of  men,  which  was  the  aim;  but  many  had  to  be 
content  with  having  a  part  pictured,  and  often  elaborate 
designs  were  never  finished.  You  see  many  bare  places, 
meant  to  be  covered  when  the  tuhuka  began  his  work. 
Queen  Vaekehu  was  converted  to  Christianity  with  but 
one  leg  done  and  forewent  further  beautification  to 
serve  her  new  God.  Though  begun  in  boyhood,  the  full 
adornment  of  a  man  could  hardly  be  terminated  before 
his  thirtieth  year.  During  his  lifetime  of  sixty  years 
he  might  have  it  renewed  twice,  and  as  each  pore  could 
not  be  duplicated  exactly  the  third  coat  would  make  him 
a  solid  mass  of  color,  the  goal  of  manly  beauty. 

"Though  men  usually  sought  to  look  terrible  so  that 
when  they  faced  their  enemies  they  would  inspire  fear, 
with  women  the  sex  motif  was  dominant,"  said  Nataro. 
"Girls  with  beautiful  bodies  and  legs  are  much  more 
attractive  when  tattooed,  and  we  selected  the  best 
formed  for  the  most  elaborate  designs.  These  were 
drawn  so  that,  as  the  girls  danced  naked,  the  whole  pat- 
terns were  obvious,  and  those  who  were  the  most  sym- 
metrical won  high  honors  in  the  great  public  exhibitions. 


344  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

If  in  the  wide  circle  that  chanted  a  utanni,  while  the  old 
folks  watched,  a  woman  by  exposing  her  beauty  in  a 
dance  caused  the  voices  of  the  young  men  to  falter,  or 
some  one  of  them  to  become  so  entranced  as  to  leap  into 
the  ring  and  seize  her,  she  won  a  prize  of  acclamation 
for  her  parents  which  no  other  equaled.  The  dance 
stopped  and  all  united  in  cheering  the  dancer.  These 
beauties  danced  with  their  legs  close  together,  so  as  to 
keep  the  design  intact,  lifting  the  'heels  ba;ckward  and 
showing  the  shapfeliness  of  figure  and  the  fineness  of 
tattooing." 

To  analyze  thoroughly  the  meanings  of  the  different 
designs  upon  the  bodies  of  the  Maoris,  or  upon  the 
canoes,  paddles,  and  bowls,  was  impossible  now.  It 
might  be  compared  to  the  study  of  heraldry.  Tattooing 
in  the  South  Seas  was  a  combination  of  art* and  heraldry, 
racial  and  individual  pride's  sole  written  or  graven 
record. 

In  the  Marquesas,  the  art  reached  its  zenith.  It  was 
the  Marquesans'  national  expression,  their  art,  their 
proof  of  Spartan  courage,  the  badge  of  the  warrior, 
and  the  glory  of  sex.  In  the  man  it  marked  ambition 
to  meet  the  enemy  and  to  win  the  most  beautiful  women. 
In  the  weaker  vessel  it  was  a  coquetry,  highly  developed 
among  daughters  of  chiefs  and  women  of  personal  force ; 
and  it  afforded  those  who  had  submitted  to  the  efforts 
of  the  best  craftsmen  opportunities  to  display  their 
charms  in  public  to  the  most  striking  advantage. 

Nataro  said  that  when  the  law  against  tattooing  was 
enforced  here  a  few  years  ago  a  number  went  to  prison 
rather  than  obey  it,  but  that  when  it  was  abrogated  the 
art  was  already  dead.     It  is  kept  alive  now,  except  in 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  345 

a  few  cases,  only  by  the  placing  of  names  upon  the  arms 
of  the  girls.  Many  tuhukas  were  still  living,  but  there 
was  little  call  for  their  work. 

"They  were  our  highest  class,  next  to  the  chiefs," 
said  Nataro.  "We  looked  up  to  them  as  you  do  to  your 
great.  They  were  feted  and  made  much  of,  and  their 
schools  were  our  art  centers,  teaching  besides  tattooing, 
the  carving  of  wood,  bowls,  canoes,  clubs,  and  paddles. 
Now  we  buy  tin  cans  and  china  plates.  Von  den 
Steinen,  the  German  philologist,  connected  with  the 
Berlin  museum,  who  was  here  ten  years  ago,  copied 
every  tattoo  pattern  he  saw,  and  in  many  he  found  a 
relation  to  Indian  or  Asiatic  and  perhaps  other  hiero- 
glyphics and  figures  of  thousands  of  years  ago." 

With  the  ridiculing  of  it  by  the  missionaries,  who  as- 
sociated it  with  heathenry,  and  the  making  of  it  a  crime 
by  the  missionary-directed  chiefs  of  Tahiti,  tattooing 
vanished  there  almost  a  hundred  years  ago,  but  here 
the  law  against  it  was  very  recent.  The  law  written  by 
the  English  Protestant  missionaries  in  Tahiti  was  as  fol- 
lows: 

No  person  shall  mark  with  tatau,  it  shall  be  entirely  discon- 
tinued. It  belongs  to  ancient  evil  customs.  The  man  or  woman 
that  shall  mark  with  tatau,  if  it  be  clearly  proved,  shall  be 
tried  and  punished.  The  punishment  shall  be  this — ^he  shall 
make  a  piece  of  road  ten  fathoms  long  for  the  first  marking, 
twenty  for  the  second ;  or  stone  work  four  fathoms  long  and  two 
wide ;  if  not  this,  he  shall  do  some  work  for  the  king.  This  shall 
be  the  woman's  punishment — she  shall  make  two  large  mats,  one 
for  the  king  and  one  for  the  governor ;  or  four  small  mats,  for 
the  king  two,  and  for  the  governor  two.  If  not  this,  native 
cloth  twenty  fathoms  long  and  two  wide;  ten  fathoms  for  the 


346  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

king  and  ten  for  the  governor.  The  man  and  woman  that  per- 
sist in  tatauing  themselves  successively  four  or  five  times,  the 
figures  marked  shall  be  destroyed  by  blacking  them  over,  and 
the  individuals  shall  be  punished  as  above  written. 

To  achieve  a  fairly  complete  picture  upon  one's  body 
meant  many  months  of  intense  suflFering,  the  expendi- 
ture of  wealth,  and  a  decade  of  years  of  very  gradual 
progress  toward  the  goal  after" manhood  was  attained; 
but  for  a  man  in  the  former  days  to  lack  the  Stripes  of 
Terror  upon  his  face,  to  have  a  bare  countenance,  or  one 
not  yet  marked  by  the  initial  strokes  of  the  hammer  of 
the  tattooer  was  to  be  a  poltroon  and  despised  of  his 
tribe. 

Such  a  one  must  expect  to  have  no  apple  of  love 
thrown  at  him,  fo  awaken  no  passion  in  womankind,  nor 
ever  to  find  a  wife  to  bear  him  children.  He  was  as 
the  giaour  among  the  Turks.  He  had  no  honor  in  life 
or  death,  no  foothold  in  the  ranks  of  the  warriors,  or 
place  among  the  shades  of  Po. 

So  when  white  men  were  cast  by  shipwreck  in  those 
isles,  or  fled  from  duty  on  whalers  or  warships,  and 
sought  to  stay  among  the  Marquesans,  they  acceded  to 
the  honored  customs  of  their  hosts,  and  adopted  their 
facial  adornment  and  often  in  the  course  of  years  their 
whole  bizarre  garb.  The  courage  that  did  not  shrink 
from  dwelling  among  cannibals  could  not  wilt  af  the 
blow  of  the  hama. 

The  explorer  in  the  far  North,  who  lets  his  face  be- 
come covered  with  a  great  growth  of  hair,  when  he  in- 
tends to  return  to  civilization  can  with  a  few  strokes  of 
a  razor  be  again  as  before.     But  once  the  curious  ink 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  347 

of  the  tattooer  has  bitten  into  the  skin,  it  is  there  forever. 
It  is  like  the  pits  of  smallpox;  it  can  never  be  erased. 
Through  all  his  life,  and  into  the  grave  itself,  the  human 
canvas  must  bear  the  pictures  painted  by  the  artist  of 
the  needles.  It  was  a  chain  as  strong  as  steel,  riveted 
on  him,  that  fastened  him  to  these  lotus  isles.  So  men 
of  America  or  Europe  did  not  return  to  their  native  land 
from  the  Marquesas,  but  died  here.  The  whorls  and 
lines  in  the  ama  dye  wrote  exile  forever  from  the  loved 
ones  at  home. 

Is  that  wholly  true?  Had  not  science  or  sorcery  ne- 
penthe for  the  afflicted  by  such  a  horror — horror  if  un- 
wanted? Is  there  not  one  who  has  escaped  such  a  fate 
when  life  had  become  fearful  under  it? 

I  asked  that  question  of  all,  and  in  the  valley  of  Han- 
avave  was  answered.  I  had  rowed  to  Hanavave  in  the 
whaleboat  of  Grelet,  and,  when  he  returned  to  Oomoa, 
stayed  on  a  month  for  the  fishing  with  Red  Chicken 
and  discussions  with  Pere  Olivier. 

"There  is  a  sorcerer  in  the  hills  near  here,"  said  the 
old  French  priest,  thirty-five  years  there  without  leav- 
ing, "who  was  said  to  be  the  best  tattooer  on  Fatu-hiva. 
He  is  still  a  pagan,  and  has  a  wonderful  memory.  Take 
some  tobacco  and  a  pipe,  and  go  to  visit  him.  He  may 
be  in  league  with  the  devil,  but  he  is  worthy  an  hour's 
journey." 

Puhi  Enata  was  still  vigorous,  though  very  old.  The 
designs  upon  his  face  and  body  were  a  strange  green, 
the  verde  antique  which  the  ama  ink  becomes  on  the 
flesh  of  the  confirmed  hava  drinker.  I  greeted  him 
with  "Kaohal"  and  soon,  with  the  chunk  of  tobacco  be- 
side him  and  the  new  pipe  lit,  I  led  him  to  the  subject. 


348  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

The  story  is  not  mine  but  his,  and  it  has  all  the  weird 
flavor  of  these  exotic  gardens  of  mystery.  It  is  true 
without  question,  and  I  have  often  thought  since  of  the 
American  concerned  in  it,  and  wondered  at  his  after 
fate. 

We  were  seated,  Puhi  Enata  and  I,  upon  the  paepae 
of  his  home,  the  platform  of  huge  stones  on  which  all 
houses  in  the  Land  of  the  War  Fleet  are  built. 

In  the  humid  air  of  that  tropic  parallel  he  made  pass 
before  me  a  panorama  of  fantastic  tragedy  as  real  as 
the  life  about  me,  but  as  astounding  and  as  vivid  in  its 
facts  and  its  narration  as  the  recital  of  a  drama  of  an- 
cient Athens  by  a  master  of  histrionics.  I  laughed  or 
shuddered  with  the  incidents  of  the  story.  He  spoke  in 
his  native  tongue,  and  I  have  given  his  words  as  thej^  fil- 
tered through  the  screen  of  my  alien  mind,  not  always 
exactly,  but  in  consonance  with  the  cast  of  thought  of 
that  far-away  and  unknown  land. 

"We  had  no  whites  here  when  he  came,  this  man  of 
your  islands.  Other  valleys  had  them,  but  Hanavave, 
no.  Few  ships  have  come  to  this  bay.  Tai-o-hae,  a 
day  and  a  night  and  more  distant,  they  sought  for  food 
and  water  and  now  for  copra,  but  Hanavave  was,  as 
always,  lived  in  by  us  only.  Yet  we  ever  welcomed  the 
haoe,  the  stranger,  for  he  had  ways  of  interest,  and  often 
magic  greater  than  ours. 

"He  came  one  day  on  a  ship  from  far,  this  white  man 
I  tell  about,  and  of  whom  even  now  I  often  medi- 
tate. He  was  not  of  the  sea,  but  on  the  ship  as  one 
who  pays  to  move  about  over  the  waters,  looking  for 
something  of  interest.  That  thing  he  found  here.  He 
brought  ashore  his  guns  and  powder,  his  other  posses- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  349 

sions  of  wonder,  and  let  the  ship  go  away  without  him. 
He  had  seen  Titihuti,  and  his  koehoe,  his  spirit,  was  set 
aflame." 

I  needed  no  description  by  the  tuhuka  to  bring  before 
me  Titihuti,  to  see  that  maddening,  matchless  child- 
wom^n,  nor  to  know  the  desperate  plight  of  a  white  who 
fell  in  love  with  her.  She  must  have  been  the  Helen  of 
these  Pacific  Greeks,  for  men  came  from  other  islands  to 
woo  her,  fought  over  her,  and  embroiled  tribes  in  bloody 
warfare  at  her  whim.  Her  affairs  had  been  the  history 
of  her  valley  for  a  brief  period,  and  were  immortalized 
in  chants  and  in  legends  though  she  still  lived.  Many 
had  related  to  me  stories  of  her  beauty,  her  spell  over 
men,  and  her  wicked  pleasure  in  deceiving  them. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  a  chief,  of  a  long  line  of 
hdkaiki,  of  noble  mothers  and  of  warriors,  and  an  adept 
in  the  marvelous  cult  of  beauty,  of  sex  expression,  which 
to  the  Marquesan  woman  was  the  field  of  her  dearest 
ambition,  the  professional  stage  and  the  salon  of  society. 

*'The  day  he  came  to  this  beach,"  said  the  sorcerer, 
"was  the  day  she  first  danced  in  the  Grove  of  the  Mei, 
at  the  annual  gathering  of  the  tribe.  All  the  people 
of  the  ship  were  invited,  and  not  least  he  who  had  no 
duties  but  his  desires,  and  who  brought  from  the  vessel 
a  barrel  of  rum  as  his  gift  to  the  people.  It  was  as  rich 
as  the  full  moon,  as  strong  as  the  surf  in  storm,  and  in 
every  drop  a  dream  of  fortune.  It  made  that  foreigner 
of  note  at  once,  and  he  was  given  a  seat  at  the  Hurdhura, 
the  Dance  of  Passion,  in  which  Titihuti  for  the  first  time 
took  her  place  as  a  woman  and  an  equal  of  cithers.  She 
was  then  thirteen  years  old,  a  mm  hanahau,  her  form  as 
the  bud  of  the  pahue  flower,  her  hair  red-gold,  like  the 


350  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

fish  of  the  lagoon,  and  her  skin  as  the  fresh-opened 
breadfruit.  The  Grove  of  the  Mei  you  have  been  in, 
but  you  cannot  imagine  that  scene.  A  hundred  torches 
of  candlenuts,  strung  on  the  spine  of  the  pahn-leaf,  ht 
the  dancing  mead.  The  grass  had  been  cut  to  a  smooth- 
ness, and  all  the  valley  was  there.  As  is  usual  in  these 
annual  debuts  of  our  girls,  at  the  height  of  the  bread- 
fruit season,  a  dozen  were  allowed  to  show  their  beauty 
and  skill.  These  danced  to  the  music  of  drums  and  of 
hand-clapping  and  chanting  before  the  entire  tribe 
seated  on  the  grass." 

The  old  man  lit  the  pipe,  which  had  gone  out,  and 
puffed  out  the  blue  clouds  of  smoke  as  if  they  were 
recollections  of  the  past. 

"Finally,  as  the  custom  is,  the  plaudits  of  the  crowd 
narrowed  the  contest  to  three.  Each  as  she  danced  ap- 
pealed for  approval,  and  each  had  followers.  By  the 
judgment  of  the  throng  all  had  retired  but  three  after 
a  first  effort.  These  began  the  formal  titii  e  te  epo. 
This  is  the  dance  of  love,  the  dance  we  Marquesans  have 
ever  made  the  test  of  the  female's  fascination. 

"Before  the  first  of  the  three  danced,  the  rum  was 
passed.  It  was  drunk  from  cups  of  leaves,  and  each 
in  turn  drew  from  the  cask.  It  ran  through  our  veins 
like  fire  through  the  pandanus.  The  great  drum  then 
sounded  the  call. 

"Tahiatini  came  from  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  She 
wore  a  dress  of  tapa,  made  from  the  pith  of  the  mul- 
berry-tree, and  as  the  dance  became  faster  she  tossed  it 
off  until  she"  moved  about  quite  nude.  For  this,  of 
course,  is  part  of  the  test.  A  hundred  men,  mostly 
young,  stood  and  watched  her,  and  watching  them  were 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  351 

the  judges,  the  elders  of  the  race,  men  and  women. 
For,  Menike,  in  the  expression,  the  heat,  or  the  coohiess 
of  those  standing  men  was  counted  the  success  or  failure 
of  the  dancer.  And  they  were  taught  by  pride  and  by 
the  rules  of  the  event  to  conceal  every  feeling,  as  did  the 
warrior  who  faced  the  launched  spear.  They  were  to 
be  as  the  stones  of  the  paepae. 

"Tahiatini  passed  back  into  the  trees,  and  Moeo  suc- 
ceeded her.  She  seemed  to  feel  that  Tahiatini  had  not 
scored  heavily.  She  danced  marvelously  for  one  who 
had  never  before  been  in  the  Grove  of  Mei,  and  the 
shrewd  judges  reckoned  more  than  one  of  the  silent  hun- 
dred who  could  not  restrain  from  some  mark  of  ap- 
proval. There  was,  when  she  fell  back,  a  shout  of  prtaise 
from  the  crowd,  and  the  judges  conferred  while  the  rum 
was  handed  about  for  the  second  time. 

"Then  Titihuti  was  thrust  out  from  the  darkness,  and 
from  her  first  step  we  realized  that  a  new  enchantress 
had  come  to  torment  the  warriors.  I  have  lived  long, 
and  many  of  those  dances  in  the  Grove  of  Mei  I  have 
seen.  Never  before  or  since  that  night  have  I  known 
a  girl  to  do  what  she  did.  Her  kahu  of  tapa  was  as  red 
as  the  sun  when  the  sea  swallows  it,  and  hung  over  one 
shoulder,  so  that  her  bosom,  as  white  as  the  ripe  cocoa- 
nut,  gleamed  in  the  light  of  the  burning  ama. 

"Her  hair  was  in  two  plaits  of  flame,  and  the  glitter- 
ing ghost  flowers  were  over  her  ears.  You  know  she 
had  for  months  been  out  of  the  day  and  under  the  hands 
of  those  who  prepare  the  dancers.  Her  body  was  as 
rounded  as  the  silken  bamboo,  and  her  skin  shone  with 
the  gloss  of  ceaseless  care. 

"She  advanced  before  the  silent  hundred,  moving  as 


352  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  slow  waters  of  the  brook,  and  as  she  passed  each 
one  she  looked  into  his  eyes  and  challenged  him,  as  the 
fighting  man  his  enemy.  Only  she  looked  love  and  not 
hatred.  Then  she  bounded  into  the  center  of  the  line 
and,  casting  off  her  kahu,  she  stood  before  them,  and 
for  the  first  time  bared  her  beautiful  body  in  the  titii  e 
te  epOy  the  Dance  of  the  Naked.  She  fluttered  as  a  bird 
a  few  moments,  the  bird  that  seeks  a  mate,  the  kuku  of 
the  valley.  On  her  little  saffroned  feet  she  ran  about, 
and  the  light  left  her  now  in  brilliancy  and  now  in 
shadow.  She  was  searching  for  the  way  from  childhood 
to  womanhood. 

"Then  the  great  pahu,  the  war-drum  of  human  skin, 
was  struck  by  O  Nuku,  the  sea-shells  blew  loudly,  and 
the  Hurahura  was  proclaimed.  You  know  that.  Few 
are  the  men  who  resist.  Titihuti  was  as  one  aided  by 
Veinehae,  the  Woman  Demon.  She  flung  herself  into 
that  dance  with  madness.  All  her  life  she  and  her 
mother  had  awaited  that  moment.  If  she  could  tear  the 
hearts  of  those  warriors  so  that  their  breasts  heaved, 
their  limbs  twitched,  and  their  eyes  fell  before  her,  her 
honor  was  as  the  winner  of  a  battle.  It  was  the  supreme 
hour  of  a  woman's  existence. 

"The  judges  seized  the  flambeaux  and  scrutinized 
closely  the  faces  of  the  men.  First  one  yielded  and 
then  another.  Try  as  they  might  to  be  as  the  rocks  of 
the  High  Place,  they  felt  the  heat  and  melted.  A  dozen 
were  told  off  in  the  first  few  minutes  of  Titihuti's  dance, 
though  Tahiatini  and  Moeo  had  won  but  two  or  three. 
Faster  grew  the  music,  and  faster  spun  about  her  hips 
the  torso  of  Titihuti.  The  judges  caught  the  rhythm. 
They  themselves  were  convulsed  by  the  spell  of  the  girl. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  353 

The  whole  line  of  the  silent  hundred  was  breaking  when, 
as  the  breadfruit  falls  from  the  tree,  suddenly  sprang 
upon  the  mead  the  foreigner  who  had  come  but  that 
day.  Though  others  of  the  ship  tried  to  hold  him,  he 
broke  from  them,  and,  clasping  Titihuti  in  his  arms,  de- 
clared that  she  was*  his,  and  that  he  would  defend  his 
capture.  The  drums  were  quieted,  the  judges  rushed 
to  the  pair,  and,  for  the  time  of  a  wave's  lapping  the 
beach,  spears  were  seized. 

"But  the  ritual  of  the  rum  began,  and  in  the  crush 
about  the  cask  the  judges  awarded  Titihuti  the  Orchid 
of  the  Bird,  the  reward  of  the  First  Dancer.  She  stood 
in  the  light  of  the  now  dying  torches,  and  when  the  for- 
eigner would  embrace  her  and  lead  her  away  she  turned 
her  laughing  eyes  toward  him  and  called  out  so  that 
many  heard : 

"  *You  are  without  ornament,  O  Haoe.  Cover  your 
face  as  do  Marquesan  lovers,  or  get  you  back  to  your 
island  I' 

"Then  she  hurried  away  to  receive  the  praise  and  to 
taste  the  glory  of  her  achievement  among  her  own 
family." 

The  Taua  took  his  long  knife  and  with  repeated  blows 
hacked  off  the  upper  half  of  a  cocoanut  to  make  ready 
another  drink.  I  had  a  very  vivid  idea  of  the  situation 
he  had  described.  That  handsome  young  man  of  Eu- 
rope, belike  of  wealth,  seeking  to  surrender  to  his  va- 
grant fancies  in  this  contrasting  environment,  and  find- 
ing that  among  these  savages  he  had  position  only  as 
his  rum  bought  it  with  the  men,  and  was  without  it  at  all 
among  the  women.  One  could  fancy  him  all  afire  after 
that  dance  of  abandon,  ready  on  the  instant  to  yield  to 


354  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  deepest  of  all  instincts,  and  surprised,  astounded, 
almost  unbelieving  at  his  repulse.  He  might  have 
learned  that  such  repulse  was  not  even  in  the  manner 
of  the  Marquesans,  but  solely  the  whim  of  Titihuti,  the 
beginning  of  that  career  of  whimsical  passion  and  insou- 
ciance which  carried  her  fame  from  island  to  island  and 
fetched  other  proud  whites  from  afar  to  know  her  favor. 
He  himself  had  come  a  long  way  to  be  the  unwitting  vic- 
tim of  the  most  prankish  girl  and  woman  who  ever 
danced  a  tribe  to  death  and  destruction,  but  who  withal 
was  worth  more  than  she  who  launched  the  thousand 
ships  to  batter  Ilium's  towers. 

"And  did  he  cover  his  face?"  I  demanded,  hurrying 
to  follow  the  windings  of  fate. 

"Er  said  the  sorcerer.  "He  gained  the  friendship 
of  chiefs.  He  let  his  ship  sail  away  with  but  a  paper 
with  words  to  his  tribe,  and  he  stayed  on.  H-e  hunted, 
he  swam,  and  he  drank,  but  he  could  not  touch  his  nose 
to  the  nose  of  Titihuti;  for  his  nose  was  naked.  Weeks 
passed,  but  not  his  passion.  He  hovered  about  her  as 
the  great  moth  seeks  the  fireflies,  but  ever  she  was  busied 
with  her  pomades  and  her  massage,  the  ena  unguent  and 
the  baths,  the  omi-omi  and  the  combing  of  her  red-gold 
tresses.  She  had  set  him  aflame,  but  had  no  alleviation 
for  him. 

"And  then  when  the  moon  was  at  its  height  she 
danced  again,  this  time  alone,  as  the  undisputed  vehine 
haka  of  Fatu-hiva.  The  foreigner  sat  and  gazed,  and 
when  Titihuti  glided  to  where  he  was  and,  planting  her 
feet  a  metero  away,  addressed  herself  to  him,  he  shook 
with  longing.  She  was  perfumed  with  the  jasmine,  and 
about  her  breasts  were  rings  of  those  pink  orchids  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  355 

the  mountains.  The  foreigner  felt  the  warmth  of  her 
presence  as  she  posed  in  the  attitudes  of  love.  He 
bounded  to  his  feet  and,  clasping  her  for  the  second 
time  to  him,  he  shouted  that  he  would  be  tattooed,  he 
would  be  a  man  among  men  in  the  Marquesas. 

"There  was  no  delay;  I  myself  tattooed  him.  As 
always  the  custom,  I  took  him  into  the  mountains  and 
built  the  patiki,  the  house  for  the  rite.  That  is  as  it 
should  be,  for  tattooing  is  of  our  gods  and  of  our  reli- 
gion before  the  whites  destroyed  it.  I  was  and  am  the 
master  of  our  arts.  I  did  not  sketch  out  my  design 
upon  his  skin  with  burned  bamboo,  as  do  some,  but 
struck  home  the  ama  ink  directly.  My  needles  were  the 
bones  of  one  whom  I  had  slain,  an  enemy  of  the  Oi  tribe. 
I  myself  gathered  the  candlenuts  and,  burning  them  to 
powder,  mixed  that  with  water  and  made  my  color. 
My  mallet,  or  hama,  was  the  shin  of  another  whom  I 
had  eaten." 

Such  a  man  as  Leonardo,  who  painted  "Mona  Lisa" 
and  designed  a  hundred  other  beautiful  things,  or  Cel- 
lini of  the  book  and  a  vast  creation  of  intricate  marvels, 
would  have  understood  the  exactness  of  that  art  of  tat- 
tooing in  the  Marquesas.  Suppose  "Mona  Lisa"  her- 
self, an  expanse  of  her  fair  back,  and  not  mere  linen, 
bore  her  picture.  What  infinite  pains  I  Not  more  than 
took  the  taua  in  such  a  task.  In  his  mind  his  plan,  he 
dipped  his  needle  in  the  ama  soot,  and,  placing  the  point 
upon  a  pore  of  the  flesh,  he  lightly  tapped  the  other  ex- 
tremity of  the  bone  with  his  hama  of  shin  and  impressed 
the  sepia  into  the  living  skin,  for  each  point  of  flesh  mak- 
ing a  stroke. 

Followed  fever  after  several  hours  of  frightful  an- 


356  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

guish.  The  dentist  is  the  ministrant  of  caresses,  his 
the  loved  hand  of  pleasure,  compared  with  the  suffering 
caused  to  the  quivering  body  by  the  blows  of  those 
needles.  A  seance  of  tattooing  followed,  and  several 
days  of  sickness.  He  had  not  the  strength  of  the  na- 
tives in  the  pain,  and  often  he  cried  out,  but  yet  Jie 
signed  that  the  tattooing  should  go  on. 

"Across  his  eyes  upon  the  lids,  and  from  ear  to  ear, 
I  made  a  line  as  wide  as  two  of  your  teeth,  and  I  crossed 
lines  as  wide  from  the  corners  of  his  forehead  to  the  cor- 
ners of  his  chin.  As  he  was  to  be  admitted  to  the  Lodge 
of  Tattooers,  I  put  upon  his  brow  the  sacred  shark  as  big 
as  Titihuti's  hand.  I  was  four  moons  in  all  that,  and  all 
the  time  he  must  lie  within  his  hut,  never  leaving  it  or 
speaking.  I  handed  him  food  and  nursed  him  between 
my  work.  Upon  our  darker  skin  the  black  candlenut 
ink  is,  as  you  know,  as  blue  as  the  deep  waters  of  the 
sea,  but  on  him  it  was  black  as  night,  for  his  flesh  was 
white. 

"He  was  handsome  as  ever  god  of  war  in  the  High 
Place,  that  foreigner,  and  terrible  to  behold.  His  eyes 
of  blue  in  their  black  frames  were  as  threatening  as 
the  thunders  of  the  ocean,  and  above  the  black  shark 
glistened  his  hair,  as  yellow  as  the  sands  of  the  shore.  A 
breadfruit  season  had  passed  when  we  descended  the 
mountain,  and  he  was  received  into  the  tribe  of  Hana- 
vave.  We  called  him  Tohiki  for  his  splendor,  though 
his  name  was  Villee,  as  we  could  say  it." 

There  is  a  curious  quibble  in  the  recital  of  the  Poly- 
nesian. He  arrives  at  a  crisis  of  his  tale,  and  avoids  it 
for  a  piece  of  wit  or  an  idle  remark.     Perhaps  it  is  to 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  857 

pique  the  listener's  interest,  to  deepen  his  attention,  or 
it  is  but  the  etiquette  of  the  bard. 

"Titihuti?"     I  interposed. 

"Tuituir  he  ejaculated.  "You  put  weeds  in  my 
mouth.  That  girl,  that  Titihuti,  had  left  her  paepae 
and  vanished.  Some  said  she  dwelt  with  a  lover  in  an- 
other valley.  Others  that  she  had  been  captured  at 
night  by  the  men  of  Oi  Valley.  It  was  always  our  ef- 
fort to  seize  the  women  of  other  tribes.  They  made  the 
race  stronger.  But  Titihuti  was  not  in  Oi  or  with  a 
lover.  Her  love  was  her  beauty,  and  soon  we  learned 
that  she  was  gone  into  the  hills  herself  to  be  tattooed. 
You,  American,  have  seen  her  legs,  and  know  the  full 
year  she  gave  to  those.  They  are  even  to-day  the  hana 
metai  oko,  the  loveliest  and  most  perfect  of  all  living 
things." 

"And  Willie,  the  splendid  Tokihi,  what  said  he?" 

*^Aue!  He  dashed  up  and  down  the  valleys  seeking 
her.  He  offered  gifts  for  her  return.  He  cried  and 
he  drank.  But  the  tattooing  is  tabu,  and  it  would  have 
been  death  to  have  entered  the  hut  where  she  was  against 
the  wish  of  the  artist.  Then  he  turned  on  me  and  cursed 
me,  and  often  he  sat  and  looked  at  himself  in  the  pool 
in  the  brook  by  his  own  paepae.  That  foreigner  lost  his 
good  heart.  No  longer  was  he  kind  and  gentle.  It 
was  he  who  led  us  against  the  valley  of  Oomoa,  and  with 
his  gun  wrought  great  harm  to  those  people.  It  was 
he  who  was  ready  to  fight  at  but  the  drop  of  a  cocoanut 
upon  his  roof.  He  took  no  women,  and  he  became  the 
fiercest  man  of  Hanavave.  When  the  year  had  gone, 
and  Titihuti  came  back,  he  would  not  see  her  in  the 


358  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

dance,  though  in  it  she  showed  her  decorative  legs  for  the 
first  time.  He  cursed  her,  too,  and  said  she  was  a  sister 
of  the  feki,  the  devil-fish.  He  dwelt  among  us  for  sev- 
eral years  as  one  who  leads  the  tribe,  but  is  not  of  it.  Of- 
ten he  but  missed  death  by  the  breadth  of  a  grain  of 
sand,  for  he  flung  himself  on  the  spears,  he  fought  the 
sea  when  it  was  angered,  and  he  drank  each  night  of  the 
iiamu,  the  wine  of  the  cocoanut  flower  grown  old,  until 
he  reeled  to  his  mat  as  a  canoe  tossing  at  the  fishing. 

"Then  one  day  came  a  canoe  from  Tai-o-hae,  witli 
words  on  paper  for  him  from  his  own  people.  A  ship 
from  his  island  was  there  and  had  sent  on  the  paper. 
That  was  a  day  to  remember.  There  were  with  the 
paper  tiki,  those  faces  of  people  you  make  on  paper. 
Villee  seized  those  things,  and,  running  to  his  paepae,  he 
sat  him  down  and  began  to  look  them  over.  He  eyed 
the  words,  and  he  put  the  tiki  to  his  lips.  Then  he  lay 
down  upon  his  mat  and  wept.  For  much  time  he  was 
like  a  child.  He  rolled  about  as  if  he  had  been  struck 
in  the  body  by  a  war-club,  and  at  last  he  called  me.  I 
went  to  him  with  a  shell  of  namu. 

"  'Drink!'     I  said.     *It  will  lift  you  up.' 

"He  knocked  the  shell  from  my  hand. 

"  *I  will  drink  no  more,'  he  cried.  'My  father  is  dead, 
and  my  brother.  I  am  the  chief  of  my  tribe.  I  have 
land  and  houses  and  everything  good  in  my  own  island, 
but,  alas!    I  have  this!' 

"He  pointed  to  the  black  shark  upon  his  forehead, 
and  then  he  shouted  out  harsh  words  in  his  own  lan- 
guage. I  left  him,  for  he  was  like  one  from  whom  the 
spirit  has  gone,  but  who  still  lives.  I  thought  of  the 
strangeness  of  tribes.     In  ours  he  was  a  noble  and  hon- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  359 

ored  man  for  that  shark,  and  yet  in  his  own  as  hateful 
as  the  barefaced  man  here.  Man  is,  as  the  wind  cloud, 
but  a  shifting  vapor. 

"Often,  a  hundred  times,  I  saw  him  sitting  by  the 
pool  and  gazing  into  it  as  though  to  wash  out  by  his 
glances  the  marks  on  his  countenance.  He  was  as  deep 
in  the  mire  of  despair  as  the  victim  awaiting  the  oven. 
Nature's  mirror  showed  him  why  he  could  not  leave  for 
his  land  and  his  chieftaincy.  And,  American,  for  a 
woman,  too.  I  saw  him  many  times  look  at  that  tiki 
and  read  the  words.  Maybe  he  had  fled  from  her  in 
anger.  Now  he  was  great  among  his  people,  and  she 
called  him.  Maybe.  My  own  heart  was  heavy  for  him 
when  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  that  still  water. 

"After  weeks  of  melancholy  he  summoned  me  one 
day. 

"  'Taua/  he  said,  *is  there  no  magic,  no  other  ink,  no 
bones,  that  will  quit  me  of  this?' 

*'He  swept  his  hand  over  his  face. 

"  'I  will  give  you  my  gun,  my  canoe,  my  coats,  and  I 
will  send  you  by  the  ship  barrels  of  rum  and  many 
things  of  wonder.' 

"He  took  my  hand,  and  the  tears  followed  the  lines 
of  the  tattooing  down  his  cheeks. 

"  'Tokihi,'  I  replied,  *no  man  in  the  Marquesas  has 
ever  wanted  to  take  from  his  skin  that  which  made  him 
great  to  his  race,  yet  there  is  a  legend  that  wanders 
through  my  stomach.  I  will  consult  the  lodge.  It 
would  be  magic,  and  it  may  be  tapu/ 

"The  next  day  I  found  him  lying  on  his  paepae,  his 
face  down.     He  was  a  leaf  that  slowly  withers. 

"  'Villee,'  I  said,  and  rubbed  his  back,  'there  is  for 


360  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

you  perhaps  happiness  yet.  I  have  talked  with  the  wise 
old  men  of  the  lodge.' 

"He  raised  himself,  and  fixed  his  dull  eyes  on  me. 

"  *One  Kihiputona  says  that  the  milk  of  a  woman  will 
work  the  magic.     I  can  not  say,  for  it  is  with  the  gods.' 

"The  foreigner  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  'Come,  let  us  lose  no  time!'  he  cried.  'It  is  that  or 
the  evaf 

"Marquesans,  when  tired  of  life,  eat  the  eva  fruit.  I 
made  all  ready,  and,  taking  my  daughter  and  her  babe, 
with  food,  and  the  things  of  the  tattooing,  we  again 
went  to  the  hut  in  the  mountains.  Together  we  built  it 
over,  and  made  all  ready  for  the  trial. 

"  'Remember,  foreigner,'  I  said,  'this  is  all  before  the 
Etud,  the  rulers  of  each  one's  good  and  evil.  I  have 
never  done  this,  nor  even  the  wisest  of  us  has  ought  but 
a  faint  memory  of  a  memory  that  once  a  white  man  thus 
was  freed  to  go  back  to  his  kin.' 

"  'E  aha  a — no  matter,'  he  said.  'There  is  no  choice. 
Begin !' 

"I  warned  him  not  to  utter  a  word  until  I  released  the" 
tapu.  I  made  all  ready.  Then  I  had  him  lie  down,  his 
head  fixed  in  a  bamboo  section,  and  I  began  the  long 
task." 

The  sorcerer  sighed,  and  spat  through  his  fingers. 

"Two  moons  he  was  there,  silent.  I  worked  faster 
than  before,  because  I  had  no  designs  to  make.  I  only 
traced  those  of  the  years  before.  But  the  suffering  was 
even  greater,  and  when  I  struck  the  bone-needles  upon 
his  eyelids  he  groaned  through  his  closed  mouth. 
Every  day  I  worked  as  long  as  he  could  endure.  Some- 
times he  all  but  died  away,  but  the  omi  omi,  the  rubbing. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  361 

made  him  again  aware,  and  as  I  went  on  I  gained  hope 
myself.  His  own  skin  was  by  nature  as  that  of  the  white 
orchid,  and  the  weeks  in  the  patiki  out  of  the  sunlight, 
with  the  oil  and  the  saffron,  made  it  as  when  he  was 
child.  The  milk  was  driven  into  a  thousand  little  holes 
in  the  flesh,  and  by  magic  it  changed  the  black  of  ama  to 
white.  I  think  some  wonder  made  it  do  so,  but  you 
should  know  such  things.  I  left  the  shark  until  the  last, 
but  long  before  I  came  to  it  the  gods  had  spoken. 
Faded  slowly  the  candlenut  soot,  and  crept  out,  as  the 
silver-fish  in  the  caves  of  Hana  Hevane,  the  bright 
color  of  that  foreigner. 

"Many  times  his  eyes,  when  I  let  loose  the  lids,  lifted 
to  mine  in  inquiry,  but  I  was  without  answer.  Yet 
nearer  I  felt  the  day  when  I  would  possess  that  gun  and 
canoe  and  the  barrels  of  rum. 

"It  came.  A  week  had  gone  since  I  had  touched  with 
the  needles  his  face,  and  most  of  it  he  had  slept.  Now 
he  was  round  with  sleep  and  food,  and  one  morning 
when  he  awoke,  I  seized  him  by  the  hand  and  said, 
'Kaoha!*     The  tapu  was  ended;  the  task  was  done."* 

"And  he?"  I  said  greedily. 

"He  was  as  a  man  who  wakes  from  a  dream  of  horror. 
He  said  not  a  word,  but  went  with  me  and  with  my 
daughter  and  the  babe  down  the  trail  to  this  village. 
Here  he  stole  silently  to  his  pool,  and,  lying  down,  he 
looked  long  into  it.  Then  he  made  a  wild  cry  as  if  he 
had  come  to  a  precipice  in  the  dark  and  been  kept  from 
falling  to  death  by  the  mere  gleam  of  fungus  on  a  tree. 
He  fell  back,  and  for  a  little  while  was  without  mind. 
Awake  again,  he  rushed  about  the  village  clasping  each 
one  he  met  in  his  arms,  rubbing  noses  with  the  girls,  and 


362  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

singing  queer  songs — himenes  to  e  aave — of  his  island. 
His  laughter  rang  in  the  groves.  Now  he  was  as  when 
he  had  come  to  us,  gay,  kind,  and  without  deep  thought. 

"The  gods  had  for  that  moon  made  him  theirs,  for 
soon  came  a  canoe  with  news  that  a  ship  of  his  country 
was  at  Tai-o-hae.  Never  did  a  man  act  more  quickly. 
He  made  a  feast,  and  to  it  he  invited  the  village.  A 
day  it  took  to  prepare  it,  the  pigs  in  the  earth,  the  popoi, 
the  fish  cooked  on  the  coral  stones,  the  fruits,  and  the 
nuts.  To  it  he  gave  all  his  rum,  and  he  handed  me  his 
gun,  the  paddles  of  his  canoe,  and  his  coats. 

"But  Po,  the  devil  of  night,  crouched  for  him.  The 
canoe  to  take  him  to  Tai-o-hae  was  in  the  water,  waiting 
but  the  end  of  the  koina  kai.  Plentifully  all  drank  the 
rich  rum,  but  Tokihi  most.  Titihuti  even  he  had 
greeted,  and  she  sat  beside  him.  She  was  now  loath  to 
have  him  go;  you  know  woman.  She  leaned  against 
him,  and  her  eyes  promised  him  aught  that  he  would. 
She  was  more  beautiful  than  on  that  night  when  she  had 
spurned  him,  and  she  struck  from  him  a  spark  of  her 
own  willful  fancy.  He  took  her  a  moment  to  his  bosom, 
'held  her  as  the  wave  holds  the  rock  before  it  recedes, 
and  then,  as  the  madness  she  ever  made  crept  upon  him, 
he  drew  back  from  her,  held  her  again  a  fierce  moment, 
and,  dashing  his  cup  to  the  earth,  he  turned  upon  her  in 
fury. 

"It  was  the  evil  noon.  The  eye  of  the  sun  was 
straight  upon  him,  and  as  he  cursed  her,  and  shouted 
that  now  he  was  free  from  her,  the  blood  rushed  into  his 
face,  and  painted  there  scarlet  as  the  hibiscus  the  marks 
of  the  tattooing.  The  black  ama  the  magic  had  erased 
now  shone  red.     The  stripes  across  his  eyes  and  face 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  363 

were  like  the  scars  a  burning  brand  leaves,  and  the  shark 
of  the  lodge  was  a  leper's  sign  upon  his  brow. 

*"Mutu!*  I  cried,  for  I  saw  death  in  the  air  if  he 
knew,  and  all  the  gifts  lost  to  me.  'Silence!'  And  the 
tribe  heeded.  No  quiver,  no  glance  showed  the  for- 
eigner that  one  had  seen  what  he  himself  had  not.  Titi- 
huti  fastened  her  gaze  on  him  a  fleeting  second,  and  then 
began  the.  dance  of  leave-taking. 

"We  raised  the  chant: 

*Apae! 
;  - '  Kaoha!  te  Haoe. 

Mau  oti  oe  anao  nei.* 

"To  the  canoe  we  bore  him,  and  thrusting  it  into  the 
breakers,  we  called  the  last  words,  'E  avei  atul* 

"He  was  gone  forever  from  Fatu-hiva.  And  thus  I 
got  this  latter  name  I  have,  Puhi  Enata,  the  Man  with 
the  Gun." 

The  old  sorcerer  rolled  a  leaf  of  pandanus  about  a  few 
grains  of  tobacco. 

"And  you  never  had  word  of  him?" 

"Aoe,  no,"  he  said  meditatively.  "He  went  upon 
that  ship  at  Tai-o-hae.  But,  American,  I  think  often 
that  when  that  man  who  was  Tokihi  came  to  dance  in 
his  own  island,  to  sit  at  his  own  tribe's  feasts,  or  when 
the  ardor  of  love  would  seize  him,  always  he  tried  to  be 
cahn." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A  fantastic  but  dying  language — The  Polynesian  or  Maori  Tongue — Mak- 
ing of  the  first  lexicons — Words  taken  from  other  languages — Decay 
of  vocabularies  with  decrease  of  population — Humors  and  whim- 
sicalities of  the  dictionary  as  arranged  by  foreigners. 

MALICIOUS  Gossip  and  Le  Brunnec  taught 
me  Marquesan  in  the  "man-eating  isle  of 
Hiva-Oa,"  as  Stevenson  termed  my  home. 
After  supper  or  dinner  I  had  a  lesson  in  my  paepae; 
often  in  a  mixed  group,  for  the  beginnings  of  democracy 
are  in  the  needs  of  company.  Here  were  the  governor, 
the  highest  official,  an  army  officer  and  surgeon;  Le 
Brunnec,  a  small  trader;  Kekela,  a  Hawaiian;  Puhe,  the 
hunchback  servant  of  Bapp,  the  trader;  Exploding 
Eggs,  Ghost  Girl,  and  Malicious  Gossip  and  her  hus- 
band. Mouth  of  God.  The  governor  spoke  French  and 
a  very  little  English,  Le  Brunnec  those  and  Marquesan, 
Mouth  of  God  and  his  wife  Marquesan  and  a  trifle  of 
French,  Kekela  Marquesan  and  English,  and  the  hunch- 
back Marquesan  only.  Ghost  Girl,  of  course,  knew  only 
that,  but  she  never  spoke  at  all  except  to  beg  for  rum  or 
tobacco.  Lonesomeness  made  us  intimate  despite  our 
difference  of  origin,  status  and  language.  We  talked 
about  the  Marquesan  language,  and  we  two  compara- 
tive newcomers  strove  to  enlarge  our  vocabulary. 

The  derivation  of  words  is  an  absorbing  pursuit. 
Enwrapped  in  it  are  history  and  romance,  the  advance 
from  the  primitive,  the  gradual  march  of  civilization, 

864 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  365 

and,  besides,  many  a  good  laugh;  for  man  made  merry 
as  he  came  up,  and  the  chatterings  of  the  missing  links 
are  often  heard  in  the  chase  through  the  buried  centuries 
for  the  beginnings  of  language.  The  Aryan,  English's 
ancestor,  was  originally  made  up  of  a  single  consonant 
between  two  vowels,  and  I  fancied  I  was  speaking  my 
ancestral  words  in  this  aboriginal  tongue. 

"There  is  nothing  more  fascinating  than  etymologies. 
To  the  uninitiated  the  victim  seems  to  have  eaten  of 
'insane  roots  that  take  the  reason  prisoner';  while  the 
illuminate  too  often  looks  upon  the  stems  and  flowers 
of  language,  the  highest  achievements  of  thought  and 
poesy,  as  mere  handles  by  which  to  pull  up  the  grim  tu- 
bers that  lie  at  the  base  of  articulate  expression,  sacred 
knobs  of  speech,  sacred  to  him  as  the  potato  to  the  Irish- 
man." James  Russell  Lowell  had  himself  eaten  of  that 
maddening  weed.  These  Marquesan  verbal  radicals  en- 
gaged me  both  by  their  interest  and  their  humor. 

The  erudite  philologist  may  barken  back  to  the  Chal- 
daic  or  another  dead  language  of  Asia  or  Africa  and 
make  ponderous  tames  upon  his  research,  but  the  ama- 
teur can  dig  as  he  plays  only  by  being  actually  with  a 
simple,  semi-savage  people,  as  I  was,  and  finding  among 
them,  still  active,  the  base  and  slight  growth  of  human 
thought  and  emotion  in  speech.  The  most  alluring 
tongue  in  sound  and  origin  is  the  Maori,  and  Marque- 
san is  Maori.  It  is  spoken  from  Hawaii  to  New  Zea- 
land, and  is  termed  the  "grand  Polynesian"  language. 
The  people  of  those  two  groups  of  islands,  as  well  as 
those  of  the  Marquesan,  Society,  Friendly,  Paumotuan, 
Samoan,  Tongan,  and  some  other  small  archipelagos, 
have  it  as  their  vernacular,  though  its  variations  are  so 


366  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

great  as  to  prevent  converse  except  limitedly  between  the 
different  islands.  The  Maori  tongue  is  as  full  of  mel- 
ancholy as  are  those  passing  races.  Soon  it  will  be  lost  to 
use,  like  the  ancient  Greek  or  the  mellifluous  idiom  of 
the  cultivated  Incas.  It  is  decaying  so  fast  now  that  a 
few  years  mark  a  decided  loss  of  words,  and  lessen  the 
adherence  to  any  standard.  Yet  it  is  the  most  charm- 
ing of  all  present  expressions  of  thought  or  emotion,  and 
it  is  a  great  pity  that  it  perishes.  One  sighs  for  a  South 
Seas  Sinn  Fein  to  revivify  it. 

The  Polynesians,  as  scientists  call  them,  know  them- 
selves, and  therefore  their  tongue  as  Maori.  And  just 
as  "British"  to  an  Englishman  is  a  word  of  pride,  and 
"American"  to  our  patriotic  schoolboys  and  orators  the 
greatest  word  ever  coined,  so  "Maori"  actually  means 
first-class,  excellent,  fine.  The  Maoris  were  hundred 
per  centers  before  the  Chosen  People. 

I  have  lived  much  with  Maori  folk  in  many  archipel- 
agos and  listened  for  years  to  their  soft  and  simple, 
sweet  and  short  words.  Their  speech  is  like  the  rip- 
pling of  gentle  waters,  the  breezes  through  the  bread- 
fruit-trees. It  has  color  and  rh5i;hm  and  a  euphonism 
unequalled.  Language  begins  as  poetry  and  ends  as  al- 
gebra, but  here  the  algebraic  stage  was  not  reached,  and 
there  remained  soinething  of  the  unconscious  uprush  of 
its  beginning,  and  the  subliminal  laws  of  mind  which 
shaped  its  construction.  For  the  Maori  is  a  very  old 
language,  older  than  Greek  or  Latin,  and  was  cut  off 
from  other  languages  at  the  outset  of  culture,  before 
the  mud  of  the  Tigris  was  made  into  pots.  The  Mar- 
quesan  indigene  was  never  so  complex,  as  in  acute  civili- 
zation, that  his  language  could  not  tell  what  he  thought 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  867 

and  felt,  though  he,  too,  had  art  to  supplement  words, 
as  his  tattooing,  carving,  houses,  and  temples  prove. 

The  Maori  has  one  inflexible  rule,  that  no  word  shall 
end  in  a  consonant,  that  no  two  consonants  shall  be  to- 
gether, and  that  all  letters  in  a  word  be  sounded. 

There  are  only  fifteen  letters,  or  sounds,  in  the  pure 
alphabet,  b,  c,  d,  j,  h,  1,  q,  s,  w,  x,  and  y  being  unknown. 
In  some  dialects  other  letters  have  been  introduced  in 
the  adaptation  of  foreign  words.  They  are  not,  how- 
ever, properly  Polynesian.  Words  are  usually  un- 
changeable, but  pronouns  and  the  auxiliary  verb  "to  be" 
and  many  adjectives  and  verbs  have  curious  doubling 
quality,  like  ino  iino;  horo,  hohoro,  horohoro;  haere,  ha- 
haere.  li  in  Marquesan  means  "anger" ;  iiii  means  "red 
in  the  face  from  anger."  The  adjective  follows  the 
noun,  as  in  moa  iti,  little  chicken,  iti  is  the  adjective. 
The  subject  comes  after  the  verb  "to  be,"  expressed  or 
understood,  or  after  the  verb  that  denotes  the  action  of 
the  subject. 

The  Maoris  knew  no  genders  except  those  for  beings 
by  nature  male  or  female,  and  these  they  indicate  by 
following  words.  In  Tahitian,  tone  means  "man,"  and 
vahine  "woman,"  or  "male  and  female."  Thus  I  was 
called  often  O'Brien  tane,  and,  where  the  same  proper 
names  are  applied  to  men  and  women,  the  word  tane 
or  vahine  indicates  the  sex;  The  sign  of  a  well-known 
merchant  in  Papeete,  the  capital  of  Tahiti  and  the  en- 
trepot of  the  South  Seas  reads,  "Tane  Meuel,"  the 
Tane  being  the  name  his  proud  parents  gave  him  when 
bom  to  show  their  delight  at  his  being  a  boy. 

While  there  is  a  dispute  over  the  origin  of  the  Maori, 
my  friend,  McMillan  Brown  of  New  Zealand,  a  su- 


368  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

preme  authority,  believes  it  separated  from  the  primeval 
Aryan  a  millennium  or  two  ago,  in  the  stone  age,  and 
came  into  the  Pacific  with  the  migration  that  first 
brought  women  into  these  waters.  Some  scholars  say 
the  language  is' to  be  classed  with  the  modem  European 
tongues,  and  especially  with  English.  They  cite  the 
reduction  of  inflection  to  a  minimum,  the  expression  of 
the  grammatical  relationship  of  words  by  their  order  in 
the  sentence,  the  use  of  auxiliaries  and  participles,  the 
power  of  interchanging  the  significant  parts  of  speech 
as  occasion  requires;  the  indication  of  the  number  of 
nouns  by  articles  or  other  definitives,  cases  by  preposi- 
tions, gender  by  the  addition  of  the  word  for  male  or 
female,  the  degree  of  adjectives  by  a  separate  word,  and 
the  mood  and  tense  of  verbs  by  a  participle. 

As  English  spoken  in  isolated  mountain  regions — 
among  the  poor  whites  of  the  Middle  West  and  South 
of  the  United  States — becomes  attenuated  and  broken, 
so  in  many  of  these  islands  and  archipelagos  the  Maori 
language  became  differentiated  by  climate  and  environ- 
ment, and  shriveled  by  the  limitations  of  its  use.  The 
Marquesan  has  been  weakened  by  phonetic  decay,  the 
1  and  r  almost  disappearing,  and  in  some  places,  too, 
the  k  being  hardly  ever  heard. 

As  a  nation  perishes,  so  does  its  language.  As  its 
numbers  decrease,  the  vocabulary  of  the  survivors 
shrinks.  It  does  not  merely  cease  to  grow;  it  lessens. 
Cornwall  proved  that  and  Wales;  Ireland  and  Scotland 
exemplify  it  now.  A  language  waxes  with  the  mass 
and  activities  of  its  speakers.  Scholars  may  preserve 
a  grammar,  as  the  school  Latin,  or  as  the  Sinn  Fein  is 
doing  in  Ireland,  but  the  body  and  blood  of  the  vulgate 


\rr^m^ 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  369 

speech  waste  and  ebb  without  the  pulse  of  growth. 
Speech  fattens  with  usage.  The  largest  number  of 
words  in  any  language  is  found  in  that  language  which 
most  people  speak.  The  most  enterprising  race  spreads 
its  language  farthest  by  religion,  commerce,  and  con- 
quest. 

All  these  Polynesian  tongues  are  dying  with  the  peo- 
ple. Corrupted  first  by  the  admixture  of  European 
words,  their  glossaries  written  by  men  unborn  to  the 
land,  the  racial  interests  that  fed  them  killed  by  the  de- 
struction of  customs  and  ambitions,  these  languages  are 
moribund,  and  as  unhke  those  spoken  before  the  white 
came  as  is  the  bison  to  the  family  cow. 

The  French  observer  Bovis  said  seventy  years  ago 
that  only  a  few  Tahitians  understood  and  spoke  pure 
Tahitian.  No  one  does  now.  Yet,  obsolescent  and 
garbled  as  are  these  spiritual  victims  of  pale-face  domi- 
nation, the  South  Sea  folk  cling  to  them  affectionately. 
I  attended  the  first  sessions  of  the  Hawaiian  legislature 
under  American  territorial  government.  All  proceed- 
ings were  in  both  English  and  Hawaiian,  many  of  the 
legislators  not  understanding  English  after  eighty  years 
of  intimate  relations  with  England  and  America. 
They,  like  the  other  Maoris,  had  not  learned  other 
tongues,  but  had  let  their  own  lapse  into  a  bastard 
patois. 

The  Hawaiian  is  akin  to  the  Marquesan.  The  vari- 
ations consist  in  not  using  in  one  dialect  words  in  use  in 
another,  in  the  sense  attached  to  the  same  words,  in  the 
changing  of  vowels  and  of  consonants  in  the  same  words, 
and  also  by  the  replacement  of  consonants  by  a  click  of 
the  tongue.    Almost  all  dialects  have  these  unuttered 


370  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

consonants  expressed  by  the  guttural  accentuation  of 
the  vowel  following. 

I  must  know  French  to  approach  Marquesan,  be- 
cause these  islands  are  French  for  eighty  years,  and  I 
know  of  no  practical  grammar  except  that  of  Monseig- 
neur  Dordillon,  written  in  1857,  and  of  no  procurable 
dictionary  but  his.     Both  are  in  French. 

A  tragedy  originating  in  petty  discipline  or  episcopal 
jealousy  saddened  the  last  days  of  the  writer.  Bishop 
Dordillon.  He  had  created  out  of  the  mouths  of  his 
neophytes  the  written  Marquesan  tongue,  and  he  made 
his  dictionary  his  life-work.  They  would  not  let  him 
publish  it.  Ecclesiastical  authorities,  presumably  of 
Chile, — for  all  Catholic  missionaries  here  were  under 
that  see  in  early  days, — forbade  it.  After  forty  years 
of  labor  upon  the  book,  he  was  allowed  to  put  it  to  print, 
but  not  to  affix  his  name  as  author.  Against  this  pro- 
hibition the  sturdy  prelate  set  his  face. 

"Not  for  himself,"  said  the  vicar,  Pere  David,  to  me, 
"but  for  the  church  and  our  order,  he  would  not  be 
robbed  of  the  honor.  He  died  very  old,  and  confided 
his  manuscript  to  a  fellow-priest.  For  fifty  years  each 
missionary  to  these  islands  copied  it  for  his  personal  use. 
Ten  thousand  nights  have  thus  passed  because  of  the 
jealousy  of  some  prelate  in  Valparaiso  or  in  Paris. 
Pierre  Chaulet,  of  our  order,  the  Sacre  Coeur,  revised 
the  book  after  forty-five  years'  residence  here." 

The  Tahitian  was  the  first  Maori  language  reduced 
to  writing.  No  Polynesian  race  had  a  written  htera- 
ture  nor  an  alphabet.  Writing  was  not  invented  nor 
thought  of  when  they  left  their  European  home,  nor  did 
they  acquire  it  in  Malaysia.    The  Polynesians  marked 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  371 

certain  epochs  and  events  by  monuments,  and  conse- 
crated them  with  ceremonies.  These  events  also  marked 
their  language,  which  was  peculiarly  susceptible  to 
change  and  addition.  It  was  abundant,  and  all  the  de- 
tails of  their  material  life  and  history  were  impressed 
upon  the  language  in  shades  of  meanings  and  words. 
In  Tahiti  the  finer  meanings  disappeared  ninety  years 
ago,  and  the  adverbs  and  degrees  of  comparison  were 
lost.  In  the  Marquesas,  because  of  the  lesser  infiltra- 
tion of  whites,  the  language  in  its  purity  lasted  longer. 
One  of  the  mutineers  of  the  Bounty,  Midshipman  Peter 
Heywood,  who  chose  to  remain  in  Tahiti  rather  than 
sail  with  Christian,  wrote  the  first  vocabulary  of  Tahi- 
tian  in  prison  at  Execution  Dock  in  England.  Bligh 
had  determined  to  hang  Heywood,  and,  awaiting  his 
seemingly  assured  death,  the  young  officer  in  his  death 
cell  set  down  the  words  he  had  learned  in  the  happy  days 
in  the  Isle  of  Venus,  with  their  connotation  in  English. 
One  may  imagine  it  was  a  sad  yet  consoling  task  to  live 
again  the  scenes  of  his  joyous  exile,  and  that  each  word 
of  Tahitian  he  wrote  conjured  for  him  a  picture  of  the 
scene  in  which  he  had  learned  it,  and  perhaps  of  the  soft 
lips  that  had  often  repeated  it  to  him.  It  is  pleasant 
to  know  that  the  youthful  lexicographer  did  not  mount 
the  gallows,  and  that  his  vocabulary  was  eagerly  studied 
by  the  first  missionaries  leaving  England  for  the  South 
Seas  on  the  Duff.  The  first  word  the  clerics  heard 
when  the  Tahitians  boarded  the  Duff  was  taiot  friend, 
and  the  reverends  wrote  to  England  that  as  the  "heathen 
danced  on  the  deck  in  sign  of  hospitality  and  friendship, 
we  sang  them,  '0*er  the  gloomy  hills  of  darkness.*  " 
With  Heywood's  list  as  a  preparation,  they  established 


372  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

an  alphabet  for  Tahiti  which  fitted  the  dulcet  sounds  as 
they  registered  on  their  untuned  ears.  The  general  rule 
was  to  give  the  vowels  their  Italian  value  and  to  sound 
the  consonants  as  in  English.  Their  fonts  of  type  were 
limited,  and  they  had  to  use  makeshifts  of  other  letters 
when  they  ran  out  of  the  proper  ones.  They  made  mon- 
umental errors  in  their  monumental  toil,  errors  unavoid- 
ably due  to  their  not  being  philologists,  nor  even  well 
educated — errors  perpetuated  and  incorporated  in  the 
language  as  finally  written.  This  Tahitian  dictionary 
and  grammar  formed  the  basis  of  all  similar  books  in  the 
Marquesan,  Hawaiian,  and  other  dialects.  What  store 
of  ancient  tongues  the  missionaries  had,  they  put  into 
linguafacturing  religious  words  for  the  Tahitians.  In 
fact,  they  were  so  busy  inventing  words  for  ordinary  use, 
and  for  their  prayers,  sermons,  and  the  translation  of  the 
Bible,  they  did  not  record  many  native  words.  They 
bowdlerized  the  whole  Polynesian  language,  and  emas- 
culated an  age-old  tongue  from  which  we  might  have 
gathered  in  its  strength  something  of  the  spirit  of  our 
Aryan  forefathers. 

A  chief  diflSculty  of  the  makers  of  the  written  Poly- 
nesian languages  was  the  adjectives.  Primitive  peoples 
have  not  the  wealth  of  these  that  civilized  nations 
possess,  and  fine  shadings  here  are  often  expressed  by 
intonation,  grimace,  or  gesture. 

There  is  no  available  Tahitian-English  lexicon.  The 
London  Missionary  Society  published  one  before  the 
French  seized  Tahiti  in  the  forties.  It  is  out  of  print, 
and  as  obsolete  as  to  present-day  Tahitian  as  Dr.  John- 
son's once-famous  tome  is  as  to  English.  The  only 
copies  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Mormon,  Josephite  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  873 

other  English-speaking  missionaries  in  Tahiti,  and  in 
the  libraries  of  collectors.  It  cannot  be  bought  in  Ta- 
hiti, Monseigneur  Tepano  Jaussen  wrote  one  in 
French.  I  have  it,  dated  at  Paris,  1898;  but  so  fast  is 
the  Tahitian  tongue  degrading  into  a  bloodless  wretched 
jumble  that  it,  too,  is  almost  archaic. 

"A  Vocabulary  of  the  Nukahiwa  Language;  includ- 
ing a  Nukahiwa-English  Vocabulary  and  an  English- 
Nukahiwa  Vocabulary"  was  printed  in  Boston  in  1848. 
No  living  Nukahiwan,  or  Marquesan,  would  understand 
much  of  it,  as  there  has  been  such  radical  change  and  de- 
generacy in  the  dialect  in  the  seventy  years  since  it  was 
written,  and  so  few  Marquesans  survive. 

The  language  shows  that  at  one  time  they  did  not 
count  beyond  four,  and  the  higher  numbers  were  ex- 
pressed by  multiples  of  four.  Afterward  they  came  to 
five,  which  they  made  lima  or  the  fingers  of  one  hand. 
When  the  ten  or  denary  system  was  adopted,  the  word 
umi,  or  whiskers,  was  chosen  to  mean  ten,  or  a  multitude. 

The  cardinal  numbers  are  sometimes  tiresome.  For 
instance,  thirty-one  is  E  tahi  tekau  me  te  onohuu  me  te 
mea  he  e  tahi.  I  once  remarked  to  a  Marquesan  chief 
that  the  Marquesan  people  said  many  words  to  mean  a 
trifle  and  took  a  long  time  to  eat  their  food. 

"What  else  have  we  to  do?"  he  asked  me. 

Strangely,  the  larger  numbers  are  shorter.  Twenty 
thousand  is  tini. 

Should  I  wish  to  say  "once,"  meaning  at  one  time,  I 
say,  mamua  mamua  mamua;  more  anciently  kdkiu  ka- 
kiu  kakiu  kakiu;  "a  very  long  time  ago,"  tini  tini  tini 
tini;  "quite  a  long  time  ago,"  tini  hahaa  tini  hahaa  tini 
hahaa  tini  hahaa;  but  "always"  is  anatu  and  "soon"  epo. 


374  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

This  last  word  is  a  custom  as  well  as  a  word,  for  it  is  like 
the  Spanish  manana  and  the  Hawaiian  mahopCj  the  Ta- 
hitian  ariana,  or  our  own  dilatory  "by  and  by." 

The  variations  between  the  dialects  in  the  different 
groups  is  great,  and  even  in  the  same  group,  or  on  the 
same  island,  meanings  are  not  the  same.  In  the  Mar- 
quesas, the  northwestern  islands  have  a  distinct  dialect 
from  the  southeastern.  Valleys  close  together  have  dif- 
ferent words  for  the  same  object.  These  changes  con- 
sist of  dropping  or  substituting  consonants,  t  for  k,  1  for 
r,  etc.,  but  to  the  beginner  they  are  baffling.  Naturally, 
the  letters,  as  written,  have  the  Latin  value.  Thus,  Ta- 
hiatini  is  pronoimced  Tah-heea-teenee,  and  Puhei,  Poo- 
hay-ee. 

For  me  words  have  color,  form,  character:  They  have 
faces,  ports,  manners,  gesticulations; — they  have  moods,  hu- 
mours, eccentricities : — they  have  tints,  tones,  personalities. 

Lafcadio  Hearn  might  have  written  that  about  the 
Maori  tongue. 

The  Marquesan  language  is  sonorous,  beautiful,  and 
picturesque,  lending  itself  to  oratory,  of  which  the  Poly- 
nesians arie  past  masters.  Without  a  written  tongue 
until  the  last  century,  they  perfected  themselves  in 
speaking.  It  was  a  treat  to  hear  a  Marquesan  in  the 
full  flood  of  address,  recalling  the  days  of  old  and  the 
glories  departed,  or  a  preacher  telling  the  love  of  God  or 
the  tortures  reserved  for  the  damned.  They  were  grace- 
ful and  extremely  witty.  They  kept  their  audience 
laughing  for  minutes  or  moved  them  quickly  to  tears. 
Their  fault  was  that  shared  by  most  European  and 
American  orators,  long-windedness.    The  Marquesans 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  375 

have  many  onomatopes,  or  words  imitating  natural 
sounds,  and  they  are  most  pleasing  and  expressive.  The 
written  words  hardly  convey  the  close  relation  they  bear 
to  the  reality  when  spoken.  The  kivi,  a  bird,  says,  "Kivil 
hivi!  kivi!^^  The  cock  says,  ^'Kohoao!  va  tani  te  moa! 
Kokoao!"  The  god  that  entered  the  spirit  of  the  priest- 
ess made  a  noise  in  doing  so  that  was  like  this :  ''A  u  u 
uuuuuuua!    Auuuuu  ar 

When  the  pig  eats,  the  sound  he  makes  is  thus :  "Afu! 
afu!  afu!  afu!  afu!  afu!  afu!  apu!  apu!  apu!  apu!  apu! 
apu!  apur  In  repeating  these  sounds  the  native  abates 
no  jot  of  the  whole.  The  pig's  afus  are  just  so  many; 
no  more,  no  fewer. 

When  the  cocoanut  falls  to  the  ground  the  sound  is 
"tu!"  The  drinker  who  takes  a  long  draft  makes  the 
noise,  ''Aku!  aku!  aku!  aku!  aku!  akur 

Moemoe  is  "the  cry  one  makes  of  joy  after  killing  any 
one. 

It  is  notable  that  in  English  the  names  for  edible  ani- 
mals when  alive  are  usually  the  foundational  Saxon,  but 
when  dead  and  ready  for  food  they  are  Norman.  Ox, 
steer,  bull,  and  cow  are  Saxon.  Beef  and  viand  are 
Norman.  Calf  is  Saxon,  but  veal  is  Norman;  sheep  is 
Saxon,  mutton  Norman.  Probably  the  caretaker  of 
these  animals,  the  Saxon  villain  who  tended  them,  made 
his  names  for  them  stick  in  the  composite  language, 
while  the  sitters  at  table,  the  Normans  and  those  who 
aped  their  tongue,  applied  the  names  of  the  prepared 
meat  as  they  plied  their  knives.  Pig  and  hog,  the  latter 
meaning  a  gilded  pig,  are  English,  but  pork  is  Norman. 

So  in  the  study  of  Marquesan  one  finds  that  the  com- 
mon objects  have  older  names  than  those  less  usual. 


376  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

The  missionaries  had  a  hard  time  suiting  a  word  to  the 
devil.  With  their  vision  of  him,  horns,  hoof  and  tail, 
they  had  to  be  content  with  kuhane  anera  maaa,  Ku- 
hane  means  soul  or  spirit,  anera  means  heavenly  spirit, 
and  maaa  means  wicked,  and  also  a  firebrand  or  incen- 
diary. So  Great  Fern,  my  Presbyterian  neighbor,  gave 
me  his  idea  that  the  devil — Tatana,  as  Satan  is  pro- 
nounced— was  a  kind  of  cross  between  a  man  and  a  wild 
boar  running  along  with  a  bunch  of  lighted  candlenuts, 
setting  fire  to  the  houses  of  the  wicked. 

It  is  not  easy  to  learn  well  the  Marquesan  language, 
but  it  is  not  hard  to  acquire  a  smattering  of  the  Lingua 
Franca  spoken  by  natives  to  whites  and  whites  to  na- 
tives. The  language  itself  has  been  so  corrupted  by 
this  intercourse  that  few  speak  it  purely. 

Amusing  are  the  English  words  adapted  or  melted 
into  the  native  tongue,  and  it  is  interesting  to  trace  their 
derivation.  They  call  any  tin  or  metal  box  tipoti  (pro- 
nounced "teepotee").  The  first  metal  receptacles  they 
saw  aboard  the  first  ships  were  the  teapots  of  the  sailors, 
and  they  took  the  word  as  applicable  to  all  pots  and 
boxes  of  metal.  The  dictionary  says  "Tipoti — petite 
boite  en  fer-hlanc" 

Beef  is  Pifa  (peefa) .  Poteto — pronounced  potato — 
means  ship's  biscuits  or  American  crackers  or  cakes. 
The  early  whalesmen  held  out  their  hardtack  to  the  na- 
tives and  offered  to  exchange  it  for  potatoes  or  yams. 
The  natives  took  it  that  the  biscuits  were  potatoes,  and 
call  them  so  to-day. 

A  curious  and  mixed  meaning  is  that  of  fishuha,  which 
one  might  think  meant  a  fish-hook.  It  means  a  safety- 
pin,  and  is  a  sought-for  article  by  the  women.     The 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  377 

Marquesans  had  fish-hooks  always,  and  a  name  for 
them,  and  so  gave  the  English  name  to  safety-pins, 
which  appear  like  unto  them. 

Metau  is  a  fish-hook,  and  a  pin  is  pin^  (pee-nay). 
There  are  hundreds  of  queer  and  distorted  words  like 
these.  Bread  is  faraoa,  pronounced  frowwa,  which  is 
flower,  with  an  r  instead  of  an  1,  as  they  have  no  1  in  their 
alphabet.  In  Tahiti,  taofe  is  coffee.  K  and  t  and  1  and 
r  are  interchangeable  in  many  Polynesian  languages, 
and  fashion  has  at  times  banned  one  or  the  other  or  ex- 
changed them.  Whims  or  even  decrees  by  the  pagan 
priests  have  expelled  letters  and  words  from  their  vocab- 
ularies, and  some  have  been  taboo  to  certain  classes  or 
to  all.  Papeete  was  once  upon  a  time  Vaiete,  which 
means  the  same,  a  basket  of  water,  the  site  conserving 
the  streams  of  the  hills.  Vaiete  was  smothered  under  a 
clerical  bull  and  forgotten  along  with  other  words 
thought  not  up-to-date. 

I  have  heard  an  aged  and  educated  American  woman 
bom  in  Honolulu  call  it  Honoruru,  and  Waikiki,  Wai- 
titi,  as  she  had  learned  when  a  girl. 

Coffee  here  is  Jcahe,  not  unlike  the  Japanese  koJii. 

Area  is  the  same  word  in  Latin  and  Maori,  and  virtu- 
ally in  English.  It  means  space,  in  all.  Ruma,  a  house, 
is  much  like  room,  and  pooka  or  puaha,  a  pig,  is  akin 
to  the  Latin  porcus,  and  the  Spanish  puerca. 

When  the  missionaries  here  sought  to  translate  a  be- 
loved phrase,  "The  sacred  heart  of  Jesus,"  familiar  in 
Catholic  liturgy,  they  were  puzzled.  The  Poljmesian 
believes  with  some  of  the  Old  Testament  writers  that 
the  seat  of  sentiment  is  in  the  bowels.  *'My  very  bow- 
els yearned"  is  a  favorite  expression  of  Oriental  authors. 

Koekoe  is  the  Marquesan  word  for  entrails.    It  means 


378  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

also  intelligence,  character,  and  conscience.  A  man  of 
good  heart  is  in  Marquesan  a  man  of  good  bowels.  The 
good  fathers  were  sore  put  to  it  to  write  their  invocation 
to  the  "bleeding  heart  of  the  Savior,"  and  one  finds  a 
warning  in  Bishop  Dordillon's  dictionary: 

Les  Canaques  mettent  dans  les  entrailles  (koekoe)  les  sen- 
timents que  nous  mettons  dans  le  coeur  (houpo). 

Quelquefois  il  convient  de  traduire  ad  sensum  pluto  que  ad 
verbum  et  vice  versa;     Le  coeur  de  Jesus — te  houpo  a  letu. 

Extreme  imction,  the  sacrament,  is  eteremaotio,  pro- 
nounced, "aytairaymahoteeo." 

The  daily  usage  of  common  English  words  fixed  cer- 
tain ideas  in  the  minds  of  the  islanders  for  all  time. 

on  mani,  a  corruption  of  old  man,  is  used  for  any- 
thing old ;  hence  a  blunt,  broken  knife  or  a  ragged  pair 
of  trousers  is  oli  mam. 

A  clergyman  is  mitinane,  pronounced  mitt-in-ahny, 
an  effort  at  missionary.  In  Tahiti  the  word  is  mitinare 
or  mikonare,  and  is  one  of  ribald  humor.  It  is  also  a 
bitter  epithet  against  one  who  is  sanctimonious.  The 
white  traders,  beachcombers,  and  officials  have  given 
the  word  this  significance  by  their  ridicule  of  religion  and 
its  professors. 

What  more  picturesque  record  of  the  introduction  of 
cattle  into  Samoa  than  bullamacow?  It  is  the  generic 
name  in  those  islands  for  beef,  canned  beef,  and  virtu- 
ally all  kinds  of  canned  meats.  A  child  could  trace  it 
to  the  male  and  female  bovine  ruminants  first  put  ashore 
there,  and  nominated  by  the  whites  "bull  and  a  cow." 

The  good  Bishop  Dordillon  notes  that  a  cook  is  enata 
iunu  kaij  but  that  the  common  word  is  kuM,  and  for 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  379 

kitchen  fae  huki.  That  kuM  is  our  own  cook,  as  the 
Marquesans  heard  the  sailors  call  him — cooky.  Fae  is 
house. 

A  pipe  is  paifa  (pyfa),  and  tobacco  pake  (pahkay), 
rough  pronunciations  of  the  Enghsh  words. 

All  through  Polynesia  the  generic  name  among  for- 
eigners for  a  native  is  Kanaka,  which  is  the  Hawaiian 
;Word  for  man,  or  the  human  race.  The  Marquesan 
man  is  kenana  or  enata  or  enana^  and  woman  vehine. 
The  Tahitians  and  Hawaiians  say  taata  or  tane  for  man, 
and  vdhine  or  wahine  for  woman.  The  French  word 
for  Kanaka  is  canaque.  This  word  is  opprobrious  or 
not  according  to  the  degree  of  civilization.  The  Mar- 
quesans often  call  themselves  canaques,  as  a  negro  calls 
himself  a  negro;  but  I  have  seen  a  Tahitian  of  mixed 
blood  weep  bitterly  when  termed  a  Kanaka.  Perhaps 
it  is  as  in  the  Southern  part  of  the  United  States,  where 
the  colored  people  refer  to  one  another  conmionly  as 
niggers,  but  resent  the  word  from  a  white. 

Pig  in  Marquesan  is  puaa  or  puaka. 

Piggishness  in  English  means  greediness ;  but  cochon- 
nerie,  the  French  verbal  equivalent,  means  filth  or  ob- 
scenity, and  in  Marquesan  has  its  counterpart  in  haa 
puaa,  to  be  indecent ;  hee  haa  puaa,  to  go  naked,  and  kau- 
kau  haa  puaa,  to  bathe  naked,  words  doubtless  originat- 
ing under  missionary  tutelage,  as  when  the  Catholic 
priests  were  all-powerful,  they  made  laws  forbidding 
nudity  in  public.  In  fact,  a  noted  English  writer  who 
spent  some  time  here  was  arrested  and  fined  for  sleep- 
ing upon  his  veranda  one  hot  noon  in  the  garb  of  Adam 
before  the  apple  episode.  The  Catholic  missionaries 
here  never  bathed  in  the  rivers  or  sea,  and  had  no  bath 


380  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

arrangements  in  their  house.  Godliness  has  no  relation 
to  cleanliness.  Celibate  man  the  world  over  had  the 
odor  of  sanctity. 

Shark  is  mako,  and,  curiously,  tiimu  mako  is  a  gross 
eater,  or  "pig"  in  our  adopted  sense,  while  vehine  mako 
is  a  prostitute.  E  haa  mako  is  to  deliver  over  to  prosti- 
tution. Probably  this  last  phrase  has  been  coined  by 
the  clergy  for  lack  of  a  more  opposite  one.  Hatete  in 
Tahitian  is  chastity,  for  which  the  natives  had  no  word 
nor  idea. 

When  card-playing  was  introduced  by  the  whites,  its 
nomenclature  was  adapted.  Pere  or  pepa  are  cards. 
Pere  is  play,  pronounced  p'ray,  and  pepa  is  paper. 
Taimanu,  heata,  tarapu,  and  pereda  are  diamonds, 
hearts,  clubs,  and  spades ;  teata  is  the  knave ;  te  hai — the 
high — is  the  ace ;  and  furu  is  a  full.  Fardoa  is  flour  or 
bread  and  fardoa  pere — flour  play,  flour  or  bread-like 
playing-cards — are  biscuits  or  crackers.  'Afa  miniti  is 
a  half -minute,  or  a  little  while.  Others  of  the  hundreds 
of  bastard  words  now  in  the  language  and  dictionary 
are:  Niru,  needle;  pia,  beer;  poti,  boat;  purumu,  broom; 
putete,  potato;  punu,  spoon;  Roretona,  London;  tara, 
dollar;  tavana,  governor  or  chief;  tohita,  sugar;  uaina, 
wine;  tihu,  dix  sous,  or  half  a  franc;  jira,  fiddle;  puka, 
book.  I  must  not  omit  the  delightful  verkuti  for  very 
good,  or  all  right,  or  the  stiff  eelemosina,  for  alms,  for 
which  also,  the  Polynesians  had  no  word,  as  no  one  was 
a  beggar. 

As  did  the  American  Indians,  the  Polynesians  learned 
English  and  other  European  tongues  through  religion. 
The  discoverers,  who  were  ofiicials,  traders,  or  adven- 
turers gained  a  smattering  of  the  native  language,  but 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  881 

hardly  ever  had  the  perseverance,  if  the  education,  to 
gather  a  thorough  knowledge.  Almost  all  the  first 
modern  dictionaries  and  grammars  were  written  by 
clerics.  The  prime  reason  for  their  endeavors  was  to 
translate  the  sacred  Scriptures  into  their  neophytes* 
language  and  to  be  able  to  preach  them.  The  Bible 
has  been  the  first  book  of  all  outlandish  living  languages 
to  be  reduced  to  writing  for  hundreds  of  years. 

Consequently,  its  diction,  its  mode  of  speech,  and  its 
thoughts  have  molded  the  island  tongues.  Words  lack- 
ing to  translate  biblical  ideas  had  to  be  invented,  and  the 
missionaries  became  the  inventors.  Some  with  Hebrew 
and  Greek  and  Latin  at  their  service  used  bits  of  them 
to  create  new  words,  and  others  drew  on  their  imagina- 
tions, as  do  infants  in  naming  people  and  things  about 
them.  In  writing  their  dictionaries,  they  limited  the 
European  vocabulary  to  necessary,  nice,  or  religious 
words,  and  the  vernacular  to  all  they  could  find,  with  a 
strict  omission  of  those  conveying  immodest  ideas.  As 
the  Polynesians  had  no  morals  from  the  Christian  point 
of  view,  a  great  number  of  their  commonest  words  were 
lost. 

The  Bible  was  done  into  Marquesan  in  the  forties  by 
English  Protestants,  and  the  old  Hawaiian  missionaries 
in  the  Marquesas  made  much  of  it  in  their  teachings. 
It  is  not  popular  in  French,  and  few  copies  survive. 
The  Catholics  do  not  recommend  it  to  the  laity.  Protes- 
tantism is  apathetic;  yet  I  have  seen  a  leper  alone  on  his 
paepae  deep  in  the  Scriptures,  and  when  I  asked  him  if 
he  got  comfort  from  them,  I  was  answered,  "They  are 
strong  words  for  a  weak  man,  and  better  than  pig." 

The  same  corruptions  that  have  destroyed  the  original 


382  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

purity  of  the  Hawaiian  and  Tahitian  tongues  has 
marred  that  of  these  islands.  The  French  officials  had 
hardly  ever  remained  long  enough  to  encompass  the 
language  here,  and  seldom  had  they  been  of  the  scholarly 
type. 

Rulers  over  colonies  make  feeble  effort  to  speak  well 
their  subjects'  tongues.  Perhaps  two  of  the  dozen  gov- 
ernors, military  and  civil,  the  Philippines  have  had  un- 
der American  ownership  could  talk  Spanish  fairly  well, 
and  none  spoke  the  aboriginal  tongues  which  are  the 
key  to  native  thought.  They  knew  the  governed 
through  interpreters,  and  therefore  knew  nothing  really 
of  them.  As  our  boys  laugh  at  foreigners'  ignorance, 
so  do  foreign  colonists  laugh  at  ours.  I  saw  a  famous 
American  governor  stand  aghast  when,  asking  his  Fili- 
pino host,  as  he  thought,  for  "a  night  lamp  then  and 
there,"  the  astounded  presidente  of  a  village  brought 
before  the  assembled  company  a  something  never  pa- 
raded in  polite  society. 

The  missionary  dictionaries  of  the  Polynesian  dialects, 
preserving  only  a  very  limited  number  of  the  words  once 
existing,  and  hardly  any  of  the  light  and  shade,  the 
idioms  and  picture  phrases,  of  these  close  observers  of 
nature,  remind  one  of  Shakespeare's  criticism,  "They 
have  been  at  a  great  feast  of  languages,  and  stolen  the 
scraps." 

The  English  missionaries  put  the  Marquesan  sounds 
into  English  letters,  but  when  their  day  was  done  in 
Tahiti,  and  the  French  came  to  power  because  of  French 
Catholic  missionaries  being  expelled  at  the  instigation 
of  Protestant  clerics,  the  poor  Marquesans  had  to  un- 
learn their  English  and  take  up  French. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  883 

In  Marquesan  there  never  was  an  English  dictionary 
circulated  that  I  know  of,  and  so  the  natives'  first 
European  language  was  French  as  far  back  as  books 
and  schools  were  concerned ;  but  the  commerce  has  been 
mostly  in  English,  the  whalers  and  the  traders  talk 
Enghsh,  and  all  Poljmesia  is  stamped  by  the  heel  of  the 
Saxon. 

A  German  axmy  officer  who  traveled  with  me  la- 
mented that  in  German  Samoa  the  language  used  is 
English  when  not  Samoan,  even  the  German  officials 
being  forced  to  use  it. 

On  the  schooners  all  commands  are  in  Enghsh,  though 
the  captains  are  French  and  the  crews  Tahitian,  whose 
English  is  confined  to  these  words  alone.  At  the  Ger- 
man traders'  in  Taha-Uku  the  accounts  are  in  English 
or  American.  It  is  the  effect  of  the  long  dominance  of 
the  English  on  the  sea  and  in  commerce. 

A  chief  difficulty  of  the  makers  of  the  written  Poly- 
nesian languages  was  the  adjectives.  Primitive  peoples 
have  not  the  wealth  of  these  that  civilized  nations  pos- 
sess, and  fine  shadings  here  are  often  expressed  by  into- 
nation, grimace,  or  gesture. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Tragic  Mademoiselle  Narbonne — Whom  shall  she  marry? — Dinner  at  the 
home  of  Wilhelm  Lute — The  Ta^la,  the  Sorcerer — Lemoal  says  Nar- 
bonne is  a  Leper — I  visit  the  Taua — The  prophecy. 

AS  long  as  I  live,  I  shall  have,  as  my  avatar  of 
tragedy,  Mademoiselle  Narbonne.  Fate  had 
marked  her  for  desolation.  The  grim  drama 
of  the  half-caste  whose  spirit  is  riven  by  heredity  and  en- 
vironment, fighting  for  supremacy  of  the  soul,  was  en- 
acted here  in  scenes  of  rare  intensity  and  mournful  fit- 
ness. While  I  did  not  await  its  final  denouement  I  saw 
enough  to  stamp  its  pitiable  acts  upon  my  memory, 
and  later  I  learned  of  the  last  blows  of  an  inevitable 
destiny. 

Not  even  the  pitiful  plight  of  the  bone- white  daugh- 
ter of  the  drunkard,  Peyral,  appealed  to  me  as  did  the 
conspiracy  of  life  and  ungenerous  men  against  the  hap- 
piness of  this  singular  creature,  Mademoiselle  Nar- 
bonne. 

I  recall  the  impression  the  first  sight  of  her  made  upon 
me.  I  was  by  the  door  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  ser- 
vice half  over,  when  she  came  in,  and  knelt  at  a  prie-dieu 
especially  placed  for  her.  Wealth  had  its  privilege  in 
the  house  of  God  here  as  in  the  temple  of  Solomon. 
But  Mademoiselle  Narbonne  had  another  claim  to  dis- 
tinction though  it  did  not  win  favor  with  the  church. 
She  was  exotically  beautiful,  a  distracting  and  f ascinat- 

884 


Fro:r..the  paintiiiL'  l.>y  Oscar  F.  Schmidt 

Nakohu,  Exploding  Eggs 


^^^b. 


mBBsm^mmmm 


From  the  painting  by  Oscar  F.  Schmidt 

Haabuani,  the  sole  sculptor  of  Hiva-Oa 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  385 

ing  contrast  with  the  ahnost  savage  girls  who  knelt  in  the 
pews  in  their  cotton  tunics  of  red  or  white  or  pink. 
She  had  the  grace  of  a  hothouse  flower  among  these 
blossoms  of  half-savage  nature.  She  was  an  orchid 
among  wild  roses. 

Peyral  was  then  in  process  of  winning  me  into  his 
family,  and  both  communicative  and  monitory. 

"She  is  old  Narbonne's  daughter,"  he  croaked. 
"The  richest  person  in  the  Marquesas,  now  that  her 
father  is  dead,  but  I  would  n't  be  her  with  all  her  money. 
Me,  I  value  my  skinl" 

My  whole  attention  was  upon  her,  and  the  possible 
sinster  meaning  of  his  comment  escaped  me.  Whites 
blackguarded  other  whites  so  commonly  in  the  South 
Seas  that  one  discounted  or  denied  every  judgment.  I 
was  to  understand  his  implication  later.  Mademoiselle 
Narbonne  had  no  part  in  the  life  of  our  valley  of  At- 
uona,  nor  did  she  come  to  it  other  times  than  when  she 
attended  the  services  at  the  Catholic  church  or  visited 
the  nuns  with  whom  she  had  been  from  childhood  until 
the  death  of  her  father  a  few  months  before.  Upon 
inheriting  his  vast  cocoanut-groves  and  considerable 
money  she  had  said  good-bye  to  her  ascetic  guardians 
and  left  the  convent  walls  to  take  possession  of  her 
dead  parent's  house  and  estate.  These  were  in  the  ad- 
joining valley  of  Taaoa,  and  with  her  in  the  ugly  Euro- 
pean home  built  by  him  lived  the  stepmother  she  had 
known,  and  the  mother  whom  he  had  driven  away  with 
blows,  years  before,  when  he  caught  her  in  a  tryst 
with  Song  of  the  Nightingale. 

I  met  her  towards  sunset  a  week  later.  During 
that   time,    I    had    often   wondered   what    her   tern- 


386  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

perament  might  be,  and  what  the  future  would  spin  for 
her.  Many  Daughters,  Ghost  Girl,  and  other  all-Mar- 
quesan  girls  were  striking  in  their  aboriginal,  hatched- 
carved  beauty,  but  seemed  at  opposite  poles  to  Made- 
moiselle Narbonne  in  sophistication  and  elegance. 
And  yet  at  times  I  caught  in  her  a  glimpse  of  savagery, 
of  wilful  passion  and  abandonment  to  her  senses  beyond 
that  upon  the  faces  of  these  daughters  of  cannibals. 
The  key  to  that  occasional  shift  into  barbarity  I  found 
in  her  home.  Her  father  had  been  a  driving,  sober, 
and  fierce  Frenchman,  a  native  of  Cayenne,  in  Guiana, 
where  the  French  in  three  hundred  years  have  achieved 
only  a  devil's  island  for  convicts  with  cruelty  and  foul- 
ness festering  under  the  tricolor.  Narbonne  in  the 
Marquesas  had  risen  from  a  discharged  corporal  of 
marines  to  manager  of  the  Catholic  mission  properties, 
and,  by  hook  and  crook,  owner  of  countless  cocoanut- 
trees.  This  child  of  his  thirty  years  of  banishment 
from  his  own  deadly  natal  land  was  the  one  treasure 
he  had  cherished  besides  property.  He  had  endured 
dangers  in  his  early  career  here,  fought  and  subdued 
swaggering  chief  and  tropical  nature,  to  erect  a  massive 
tomb  of  concrete,  and  to  leave  this  daughter.  She  was 
already  apathetic  to  his  memory,  and  disregardful  of 
the  advice  he  had  given  always  with  mingled  caresses 
and  cuffs. 

Her  mother.  Climber  of  Trees  Who  Was  Killed  and 
Eaten,  who  had  been  banished  from  his  house  for  her 
unfaithfulness,  had  returned  after  his  death  to  share 
it  with  Daughter  of  a  Piece  of  Tattooing,  who  had  re- 
placed her.  Between  the  two  women  was  no  jealousy, 
both  enjoying  the  ease  their  hard  years  of  serving  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  887 

Cayennais  had  earned  them.  In  Climber  of  Trees  I 
traced  the  source  of  those  pagan  moods  which  now 
and  then  swept  from  the  face  of  Barbe  Narbonne  the 
least  vestige  of  the  mask  the  nuns  had  taught  her  to  wear, 
and  let  be  read  the  undammed  passion  and  wind-free 
will  of  the  real  Marquesan  woman. 

"I  will  not  be  a  soeur,"  she  said  to  me.  "The  nuns 
are  dear  to  me,  and  they  want  me  to  come  into  the  con- 
vent, or  to  go  to  France  for  training  to  return  here. 
I  am  waiting  to  know  life.  I  am  not  satisfied  with  the 
love  of  the  saints  and  of  the  Blessed  Virgin." 

"You  are  able  to  go  where  you  please,"  I  answered. 
"You  do  not  have  to  go  to  France  as  a  Religious. 
Paris  would  welcome  you.  Board  the  next  schooner 
for  Tahiti,  and  you  are  on  the  way  to  the  wide  world." 

Mademoiselle  Narbonne  made  a  gesture  of  fear. 
Few  Marquesans  had  ever  gone  abroad;  there  were 
terrors  in  the  thought.  It  had  been  tapu  to  leave  their 
island  home,  and,  though,  as  far  as  Christianity  might 
work  the  miracle,  she  had  in  the  convent  been  purged  of 
most  of  her  mother's  superstitions,  she  had  not  rid  her- 
self of  this  one. 

"I  would  not  care  to  go  that  great  distance,"  she 
said,  dreamingly,  "but  I  would  like  to  go  to  Tahiti,  to 
see  the  cinema,  and  perhaps  the  celebration  of  the  four- 
teenth of  July.  I  have  for  years  sent  to  Paris  for  my 
clothes.  I  have  read  many  novels  despite  the  sisters 
forbid  it.  I  have  one  here  that  I  wish  you  might  talk  to 
me  about.     Many  nights  I  have  sat  up  to  read  it." 

She  handed  me  a  yellow  paper-covered  book,  "Jean 
et  Louise,"  by  Antonin  Dusserre,  a  story  of  pastoral 
and  village  life  in  Auvergne,  and  the  unfortunate  loves 


388  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

of  a  simple  peasant  youth  and  maid.  Its  atmosphere 
was  of  the  clean  earth,  the  herds,  and  the  harvests  in  a 
lost  corner  of  France.  Its  action  did  not  cover  ten 
miles,  yet  the  hate  and  injustice,  the  desires  and  defeats 
of  its  httle  world  were  dravni  with  such  skill  that  they 
hecame  universal.  The  author,  himself  a  man  in  sabots^ 
had  breathed  into  his  model  of  common  clay  the  life 
of  all  humanity.  I  had  read  the  book,  and  I  was  eager 
to  hear  her  opinion  of  it;  of  an  existence,  artless  as  it 
was,  still  as  alien  to  her  knowledge  as  ancient  Greece. 

"What  do  you  think  about  it?"  I  asked.  She  spoke 
French  vividly,  though  with  many  Marquesan  insets. 

"Jean  and  Louise  loved  each  other,"  she  replied, 
"and,  because  she  was  poor  and  had  no  money  to  give 
a  husband,  his  father  separated  them ;  and  Jean  allowed 
it.  Already,  Monsieur  Frederick,  the  girl  had  shown 
her  true  love  for  him  by  spending  the  night  with  him 
in  the  hills  with  their  sheep,  and  everybody  knew  she 
would  have  a  child.  That  Jean  was  an  assassin  and  a 
coward.  Me,  I  would  kill  such  a  man  if  I  loved  him, 
but  I  could  not  love  that  kind." 

Barbe  Nar bonne's  black  eyes  flashed  with  her  feeling. 

"I  am  frank  with  you.  Monsieur,  because  you  are  a 
stranger.  You  are  not  French  nor  Marquesan.  I  am 
both,  and  I  hate  and  love  both.  I  hate  the  French  for 
what  they  have  done  to  my  mother's  race,  and  I  hate  the 
Marquesans  for  not  preferring  to  die  than  to  be  con- 
quered. I  have  not  had  a  lover.  I  cannot  find  one  here 
that  can  satisfy  me.  If  I  did,  he  might  have  all  my 
money  and  land.  I  would  want  a  man  who  could  read 
books,  who  was  honest  and  strong,  but  who  knew  and 
liked  this  island  of  Hiva-Oa,  who  could  ride  and  fight. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  889 

He  must  love  me  as" — she  paused  to  weigh  her  compar- 
ison— "as  nuns  love  Christ,  for  whom  they  leave  their 
homes  in  France." 

Father  David,  seeing  me  with  Mademoiselle  Nar- 
bonne  one  day,  spoke  of  her  to  me. 

"We  have  hoped  all  along  that  Jean  Narbonne's 
daughter  would  remain  with  us,"  he  said,  inquisitively. 
"But  the  sacred  heart  of  Jesus  does  not  call  every  one. 
The  church  leaves  all  free  to  choose  a  vocation  of  ser- 
vice to  God  or  not.  We  know  she  can  find  happiness 
only  with  the  nuns,  for  there  is  only  wickedness  outside 
the  convent.  Barbe  is  now  a  woman,  and  unfortu- 
nately too  much  like  her  mother,  who  was  a  Magdalen. 
She  cannot  marry  a  native  because  she  cannot  live  in 
the  brush.  What  white  can  she  select.  There  is  the 
governor  and  Bauda  and  Le  Brunnec,  all  bad  Catholics, 
and  who  else?" 

"There  is  Lutz,  the  big  trader  at  Tahauku,"  I  said. 

"Lutz?  No,  no!  He  is  a  German,  an  enemy  of 
France,  and  he  is  a  Protestant,  and,  besides,  he  has  had 
his  own  woman  fourteen  years.  He  is  not  married  to 
her,  but  God  knows  even  the  devil  could  not  excuse 
putting  away  such  an  old  companion.  What  would  he 
want  of  her  but  her  money?" 

"He  has  some  property  himself." 

"No,  no !  It  would  be  impossible.  He  is  a  German, 
a  heretic,  and  I  tell  you  he  has  that  Tahitian  woman 
ever  since  he  has  been  here.  Some  day  he  will  return 
to  Germany,  the  Germany  of  Martin  Luther,  and  leave 
behind  any  woman  here.  These  Europeans  who  come 
here,  except  the  Fathers,  have  no  consciences.  When 
they  have  made  a  little  fortune,  unless  they  are  like 


390  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Guillitoue,  or  Hemeury  Fran9ois,  who  are  more  Cana- 
que  than  the  Canaques,  they  go  back  to  marry  innocent 
and  unsuspecting  women." 

I  cannot  imagine  why  I  mentioned  Lutz.  I  had  never 
seen  him  with  Mademoiselle  Narbonne,  and  she  had  not 
sounded  his  name.  Of  course,  he  was  the  only  possibly 
eligible  man  other  than  the  whites  already  enumerated. 
However,  such  thoughts  did  not  come  by  chance,  for 
the  apostolic  vicar's  solicitude  against  him  was  matched 
by  the  boisterous  roarings  of  Commissaire  Bauda,  the 
reincarnated  musketeer.  Over  a  Doctor  Funk  at  his 
beach  house,  my  repeating  of  what  Father  David  had 
said  brought  from  him  an  oath  and  a  spluttering: 

''Sacre  cochcml  That  Lutz  will  go  too  far  on 
French  territory.  He  has  the  best  lands,  most  of  the 
trade,  and  is  the  only  one  who  can  sell  liquor.  Do  we 
not  all  pay  tribute  to  him?  Now,  me,  I  have  not 
thought  of  marrying,  but  if  that  daughter  of  a  French 
corporal  should  look  for  a  suitable  mate,  who  but 
Bauda?  I  am  a  soldier,  a  veteran  of  wars  in  Africa, 
I  have  the  medal  General  Devinne  pinned  here," — ^he 
slapped  his  chest, — "and  I  am  a  Frenchman.  I  could 
not  agree  to  live  here,  but  why  not  for  her  a  house  in 
Marseilles  where  there  are  so  many  dark  people  of  our 
colonies  ?  I  could  be  there,  say  half  the  year,  and  the  rest 
of  it  in  Paris.  I  would  defend  her  against  the  world, 
and  in  turn,  would  take  my  pleasure  in  the  capital. 
I  do  not  seek  it,  but  rather  than  the  robber,  Lutz,  should 
take  the  money  to  Germany,  as  I  know  he  wants  to  do, 
it  might,  perhaps,  be  arranged.  And,  pire  alors!  I 
would  soon  send  to  the  devil  all  those  notions  the  church 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  391 

has   put   in   her   little   head.     A   drop   of   absinthe, 
mon  vieuoc?    Bauda  has  his  eyes  on  Lutz." 

I  had  met  Herr  Lutz  each  time  that  I  had  gone  to  his 
store  at  Tahauku,  but  our  social  relations  began  when 
he  sent  me,  by  his  cook,  a  Tongan,  a  formal  invitation  to 
dinner.  Like  the  young  governor,  this  European  mer- 
chant, as  often  as  the  small  voice  of  his  civilization  spoke 
to  him,  cultivated  the  customs  of  his  bourgeois  class  in 
order  to  reassure  himself  of  his  retaining  them.  I  have 
the  letter  before  me: 

Tahauka,  le  11  avril. 
Dear  Mr.  O.  Brien, 

In  case  that  you  having  nothing  else  to  do,  I  shall  be 
glad  to  see  you  at  Tahauku  to-night.  Do  not  bother  please 
about  dressing,  the  roads  are  too  bad.  If  it  suits  you,  I  invite 
you  to  stay  here  over  night. 

With  kindest  regards. 
Yours 
WiuTEiM  Lutz 

Certainly  I  had  nothing  else  to  do,  except  to  explain 
to  Exploding  Eggs  that  I  would  not  need  his  services 
to  gather  cocoanut  husks  for  my  dinner  fire,  and  at  five 
o'clock  to  start  for  Tahauku.  Lutz's  kindly  sentence 
about  not  dressing  was  to  me  a  joke,  for  I  had  to  cross 
both  the  Atuona  and  the  Tahauku  rivers,  and  a  storm, 
the  day  before,  had  made  the  trails — there  were  no  roads 
— merely  muddy  indications  of  the  direction.  The 
Atuona  stream  I  was  able  to  wade  with  my  trousers 
rolled  and  canvas  shoes  in  my  hands,  and  when  I  reached 
the  Tahauku  River,  I  found  it  waist-deep,  and  the  foot- 


392  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ing  uncertain.  A  Chinese  was  gathering  the  coarse 
grass  by  the  river's  bank  for  Lutz's  horse.  It  is  a  rare 
man  who  does  not  make  a  slave  of  his  inferior  who  by 
conquest  or  necessity  is  forced  to  do  his  will.  A  man  's 
a  man  for  a'  that  only  when  fighting  equality  or  mass 
strength  makes  him  so.  I  myself,  who  abhor  inequality, 
proved  a  sinner  there.  Averse  to  getting  my  clothes 
wet,  I  tried  to  make  the  Chinese  understand  my  wish 
that  he  take  me  on  his  back  across  the  stream.  Stu- 
pidity or  a  dislike  to  play  horse  caused  him  to  assume  a 
vacant  look,  the  Oriental  blankness  which  is  maddening 
to  Occidentals.  I  took  him  by  the  shoulder,  mounted 
him,  and  drove  him  through  the  hundred  feet  of  rushing 
water.  On  the  other  side,  I  thanked  him,  but  his  slit 
eyes  gleamed  balef  uUy  as  he  turned  away. 

The  sky  was  racked  with  clouds,  and  they  hung  on  the 
mountain  like  smoky  draperies.  The  evening  air  was 
humid  and  depressing.  Tahauku  was  a  lonely,  beau- 
tiful place,  typical  of  the  Marquesas,  isolated,  gloomy, 
but  splendid.  There  were  no  craft  in  the  bay  except 
two  small  cutters  moored  near  the  foot  of  the  stone 
stairs.  A  group  of  wooden  buildings  in  an  extensive 
clearing  lined  the  road  that  led  along  the  cliffs,  and 
about  it  were  thousands  and  thousands  of  palms,  the 
finest  cocoanut-grove  that  I  had  ever  seen  in  the  South 
Seas  or  Asia  or  India.  They  were  planted  regularly, 
not  crowded,  but  with  space  for  roots  and  for  air.  They 
had  been  set  out  two  generations  ago  by  the  grandfather 
of  the  stark  daughter  of  Peyral,  the  Irish  cavalry  officer, 
who  was  buried  among  them.  Then  a  thousand  Mar- 
quesans  had  led  there  the  life  of  their  ancestors ;  a  score 
remained. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  393 

In  the  commodious  house  erected  by  the  latter,  Lutz 
lived  in  a  determined  though  inadequate  effort  to  pre- 
serve his  German  birthright.  In  the  sitting-room  in 
which  he  welcomed  me  stiffly,  though  courteously,  were 
the  hangings  and  cheap  ornaments  of  a  Prussian  lower 
middle-class  family,  tidies,  mottos,  and  books,  including 
a  large  brass-bound  Bible  and  the  kaiser's  portrait  in 
colors.  A  bitters  was  drunk  before  the  meal.  Ijutz 
sat  at  the  head  of  a  longish  table,  and  his  two  white 
employees,  a  Hamburg  apprentice  just  out,  and  Jensen, 
a  Dane,  joined  us.  The  talk  was  in  English,  and  it  was 
curious,  in  this  far-away  island  ruled  by  the  French  for 
seventy  years,  to  find  my  tongue,  as  in  almost  every 
corner  of  the  world,  the  powerful  solvent  of  our  mixed 
thoughts.  Lutz  talked  about  America,  through  which 
he  had  come  from  Germany  on  his  way  to  Tahiti  and 
the  Marquesas.  He  praised  our  strength  in  trade,  and 
derided  the  French  and  English,  predicting  that  the 
Germans  would  divide  the  South  Seas  commerce  with 
us,  to  the  exclusion  of  others. 

I  liked  Lutz,  and,  after  the  Hamburg  apprentice  and 
the  Dane  had  gone  to  play  chess,  he  and  I  passed  some 
hours  in  chatting  about  music,  books,  and  history.  He 
had  the  solid  foundation  of  the  German  schools  below 
the  universities,  and  he  had  read  constantly  his  German 
reviews.  Stolid,  ambitious,  swift  to  take  a  business 
advantage,  he  lived  in  this  aloofness  from  the  things  he 
liked,  in  order  to  save  enough  to  raise  his  social  status 
on  his  return  to  his  fatherland.  Just  before  he  showed 
me  to  my  room  for  the  night,  he  said : 

"My  old  woman  is  going  back  to  Tahiti.  She  is  tired 
of  it  here  after  so  many  years.     When  Captain  Pincher 


394  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

comes  in  with  the  Morning  Star,  I'm  sending  her  back 
with  him.  She  's  getting  lonesome  for  her  kin.  You 
know  how  those  Tahitians  are." 

I  had  seen  but  a  glimpse  of  the  "old  woman"  that 
evening.  She  had  not  appeared  openly,  perhaps  be- 
cause of  the  rigid  rule  of  Lutz,  or  perhaps  from  pique. 
On  the  road,  though,  I  had  said  good  day  to  her,  a  huge 
sack  of  a  middle-aged  creature,  long  past  comeliness,  but 
with  an  engaging  and  strong  personality.  The  words 
of  Pere  David  and  of  Bauda  recurred  to  me  before  I 
slept.  The  "old  woman"  had  been  here  fourteen  years, 
and  her  sudden  repatriation  coincided  with  Made- 
moiselle Narbonne's  coming  into  her  fortune,  and  her 
restlessness  for  a  white  husband. 

I  sensed  a  conflict.  Tahitian  women,  as  well  as  all 
these  Polynesians,  were  seldom  afflicted  by  sexual  jeal- 
ousy, the  soul-ravaging  curse  of  culture,  yet  they  had 
a  pride,  an  overwhelming  dignity  of  personal  relations, 
which  often  brought  the  same  dire  results.  The  re- 
jected one  many  times  had  eaten  the  eva,  the  poisonous 
fruit,  or  leaped  to  death  from  a  cliff,  though  she  would 
have  shared  the  house  mats  with  her  rival  as  a  friend. 
That  was  because  they  ranked  mere  physical  alliance 
as  but  a  part  of  friendship  between  men  and  women, 
often  an  unimportant  beginning,  in  the  natural  way  of 
propertyless  races. 

"Lutz  will  not  get  rid  of  Mana  so  easily."  Francois 
Grelet,  the  shrewd  Swiss,  of  Oomoa,  on  the  island  of 
Fatuhiva,  whom  I  had  visited  following  my  evening 
with  Lutz,  had  remarked  to  me:  "She  has  as  much 
strength  of  will  as  he  has.  Her  father  was  the  chief 
of  Papenoo,  in  Tahiti,  and  L-utz  had  to  steal  her  away 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  895 

to  bring  her  here.  I  remember  her  then  because  the 
schooner,  on  which  they  were,  made  'port  in  Oomoa  for  a 
few  days.  Lutz  was  in  his  twenties,  with  a  year  in 
Tahiti  to  learn  the  business  before  his  firm  sent  him 
to  the  Marquesas.  Now,  you  know,  for  Mana  to 
leave  her  folks  and  her  island  meant  a  very  unusual 
courage  and  will,  and  she  has  stuck  with  Lutz  all  this 
time.  He  is  heavy-handed,  too,  when  vexed  over  waste. 
I  don't  think  it  will  be  a  matter  of  settling  with  her  as 
to  support;  they  all  have  a  living  at  home.  Also,  the 
Tahitians  do  not  love  the  Marquesans.     You  will  seel" 

I  had  returned  from  my  visit  to  Grelet,  when,  ar- 
riving at  night  in  a  canioe  to  the  stone  steps  at  the 
Tahauku  landing,  Tetuahunahuna,  the  steersman, 
pointed  out  to  me  the  dark  bulk  of  a  schooner  swinging 
at  anchor. 

^'Fetia  Taiao,'  he  said.  It  was  the  schooner  on  which 
Lutz's  old  woman  was  to  depart  from  her  long-time 
abode. 

In  the  weeks  that  had  elapsed  during  my  stay  with 
Grelet,  the  affair  of  Mademoiselle  Narbonne  and  Herr 
Lutz  had  actually  become  the  gossip  of  Atuona.  The 
church,  the  French  nation,  the  masculinity  of  all  the 
other  whites,  were  concerned.  The  suitor  was  said  to 
pay  almost  daily  visits  to  the  Narbonne  house  in  Taaoa, 
and  I  saw  him  galloping  past  my  house  in  the  after- 
noons, and  heard  sometimes  in  the  night,  his  shod  horse's 
hoofs  on  the  pebbly  road. 

"It  is  terrible,"  Sister  Serapoline  said  to  me,  when  I 
took  her  a  catch  of  popo  to  the  convent.  "That  Ger- 
man is  a  heathen,  and  has  been  living  in  sin  with  a  good 
woman  for  years.    Now  he  will  drag  down  to  hell  the 


396  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

soul  of  our  dear  Barbe.  We  are  offering  a  novena  to 
Joan  of  Arc  to  bring  her  to  us.  She  has  not  been  in 
the  church  or  convent  for  a  month.  She  would  make  a 
wonderful  sister,  for  she  has  a  good  heart  and  a  true  de- 
votion to  Joan  of  Arc.  And,  to  tell  the  truth,  her 
money  would  be  put  to  a  divine  purpose  instead  of  go- 
ing into  his  business  here  or  being  wasted  in  Germany." 

"What  about  Mana?"  I  asked.  "Is  she  satisfied  to 
go  away?" 

"That  I  doubt,  but  Mana,  too,  has  not  been  inside  the 
church  for  a  long  time.  Monsieur,  I  have  heard  that 
she  has  fallen  from  the  true  religion,  and  is  dealing  with 
sorcery.     The  devil  is  astir  in  Atuona  now." 

Song  of  the  Nightingale  was  of  Taaoa,  the  valley  of 
Mademoiselle  Narbonne,  and,  as  I  said,  had  once  been 
the  lover  of  her  mother.  Through  serving  a  term  of 
imprisonment  for  making  intoxicants  of  oranges  and  of 
the  juice  of  the  flower  of  the  cocoanut-tree,  his  servitude 
spent  as  cook  for  the  Governor  allowed  him  leisure  for 
a  few  stolen  hours  with  his  tribe.  Song  was  a  very  evil 
man;  of  that  perverse  disposition  which  afflicts  great 
murderers  like  Gilles  de  Raiz  or  the  Marquis  de  Sade, 
and  also  cowardly  ones  who  do  in  mean  words  and  ac- 
cursed inuendoes  what  the  arch  villains  do  in  deeds. 
He  hated  because  he  was  thwarted.  Before  the  white 
regime  he  would  have  set  valley  against  valley,  and  is- 
land against  island  for  mad  spleen.  I  had  seen  his  vile- 
ness  in  a  ludicrous  light  when  he  had  put  Ghost  Girl's 
god,  the  kuku,  before  her  as  food,  and  had  reviled  her 
grandmother  eaten  by  his  clan.  He  often  made  fun 
of  the  governor  to  me,  and  of  me,  doubtless,  to  many. 

Song  stopped  at  my  house  one  night  late.     He  was 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  397 

returning  from  Taaoa,  and  had  drunk  deeply  of  the  il- 
licit namu  enata,  the  cocoanut  brandy.  He  begged  me 
for  a  drink  of  rum,  and  I  could  ill  refuse  him  as  he  had 
filled  my  glass  so  frequently  at  the  palace.  He  tossed 
oif  a  shell  of  the  ardent  liquor,  and  filled  his  pipe  from 
my  tin.  Then  he  began  to  talk  loosely  and  boastfully 
as  was  his  habit.  He  ridiculed  the  churches,  and  their 
teachings,  and  spoke  of  Gauguin,  and  his  carven  cari- 
cature of  the  bishop.  Gauguin  was  a  "chick  tippee/' 
he  said  again,  and  not  any  more  afraid  of  the  sacrament 
than  was  he. 

"They  cannot  hurt  you  if  you  are  tapu  as  I  am,"  he 
went  on.  "The  priest  talks  of  Satan  and  his  red-hot 
fork,  and  calls  the  taua,  our  one  remaining  priest,  a 
child  of  Satan.  I  have  been  to  see  that  taua.  He  is  of 
my  family,  and,  though  he  is  very  old,  he  does  not  be- 
lieve in  the  Christian  magic,  but  in  our  own.  He  can 
do  anything  he  wants  to  a  Marquesan.  He  can  make 
them  sick  or  well." 

"How  about  a  white?"  I  asked,  negligently. 

"I  don't  say  that.  The  taua  might  work  his  sorcery 
with  some,  but  he  does  not  try.  Do  you  know  whom  I 
saw  in  his  hut  to-night?  Mana,  the  woman  of  Lutz, 
the  Heremam.  What  did  she  there?  Why  do  you  go 
to  the  mission?  To  get  the  bmi  Dieu  to  help  you. 
Mana  went  to  Taaoa  to  ask  the  Marquesan  Po,  the  god 
of  night,  to  help  her.  The  Taua  did  not  inform  me, 
but  Mana  said  to  me  that  if  she  sailed  on  the  Fetia  Taiao 
to  Tahiti,  Ma'm'selle  would  never  marry  Lutz.  The 
tav^  would  make  her  tapu  to  the  Heremani,  who  would 
be  afraid  to  take  her  to  his  bed." 

Song  of  the  Nightingale  poured  himself  another 


398  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

drink,  and,  muttering  an  incantation  in  his  own  lan- 
guage, slunk  out  toward  the  palace  to  hoodwink  the  gov- 
ernor. My  heart  misgave  me,  for  I  had  a  sincere  ad- 
miration for  Mademoiselle  Narbonne,  and  I  could  not 
help  a  kindly  feeling  for  the  Heremani,  Lutz,  who  had 
heaped  favors  on  me.  When  my  money  had  run  out, 
he  had  trusted  me  for  months,  though  he  had  my  bare 
word  that  I  expected  a  draft  from  America.  My  sym- 
pathies were  divided  odiously.  Lutz  seemed  to  be  mer- 
cenary in  his  pursuit  of  Narbonne's  daughter,  and  yet 
might  not  love  move  him?  He  had  been  faithful  to 
Mana  for  fourteen  years,  according  to  everybody,  which 
was  a  marvel  for  a  white  man.  Mana  was  to  be  pitied, 
and  her  endeavor  to  circumvent  her  competitor  not  to  be 
despised.  I  could  not  sneer  at  the  sorcery  of  the  taua. 
In  Hawaii,  I  had  seen  a  charming  half -English  girl, 
educated  and  living  in  a  cultured  home,  yield  to  a  belief 
in  the  necromancy  of  a  Hawaiian  kahv/na,  and  die. 
Her  strength  "ran  out  like  water."  With  everything 
to  live  for,  she  faded  into  the  grave  at  twenty. 

How  was  taua  to  aid  Mana  to  keep  the  affections 
of  Lutz?  The  philter  that  Julia  sought  on  the  slopes 
of  Vesuvius  to  win  the  love  of  Glaucus  came  to  mind, 
but  the  tauas,  I  remembered,  used  no  physical 
means  to  work  their  spells.  They  depended  entirely 
on  the  mind.  They  studied  its  every  intricacy,  and  the 
power  of  suggestion  was,  I  reasoned,  their  weapon  and 
mddicine  as  it  wa^  with  Charcot,  Freud,  or  Coue,  the 
modern  tauas  of  Europe.  In  my  travels  and  residence 
of  a  dozen  years  in  Asia  and  the  South  Seas,  I  had  been 
confronted  ibften  with  phenomena  inexplicable  except 
through  control  of  others'  minds  by  the  thaumaturgist. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  399 

Nevertheless,  I  had  so  frequently  had  such  an  opinion 
shattered  by  a  more  artful  and  cunning  material  explan- 
ation that  at  each  instance  I  wavered  as  to  the  method 
of  the  mage. 

The  schooner  Morning  Star,  the  Fetia  Taiao,  swung 
about  the  Marquesan  group,  from  Tahauku  to  Taiohae, 
Oomioa,  and  Vaitahu,  and  after  a  month  dropped  an- 
chor again  near  the  stone  steps  of  Lutz's  magazin.  Ly- 
ing Bill  I  met  at  the  governor's,  and  heard  him  say  that 
he  had  as  passenger  for  Papeete  the  "old  woman  of  the 
Dutchman." 

"I  '11  sail  with  the  first  'an'ful  o'  wind  after  we  load 
our  copra,"  he  said.  "That  '11  be  in  three  days.  Mana 
is  bloomin'  well  angry  at  Lutz.  I  'm  wonderin'  if  she 
won't  go  over  to  Taaoa  and  'ook  out  those  purty  eyes  o* 
Ma'm'selle.  'E  oughta  'ave  Mc'Enry's  woman  to  deal 
with.     She  'd  take  a  war-club  to  im." 

Lutz  had  me  to  dinner  again  the  night  before  the 
schooner  left,  and  at  table  were,  besides  Jensen  and  the 
Hamburg  apprentice,  Captain  Pincher  and  Ducat,  his 
mate.  I  did  not  get  a  glimpse  of  Mana,  though  Lutz 
appeared  uneasy,  and  occasionally  went  out  into  the 
kitchen  and  once  into  the  garden.  The  good  Patzen- 
hofer  beer  was  plentifully  served  by  the  Tongan,  and, 
un-iced  as  it  was,  we  drank  several  cases  of  it  with 
"Hochsr  from  Lutz  and  the  Hamburger,  "Skoals!*' 
from  Jensen,  and  "  'Ere's  yer  bloody  'ealths!"  from  Ly- 
ing Bill. 

McHenry,  I  learned,  was  keeping  a  store  on  the 
atoll  of  Takaroa.  The  rahui  at  Takaroa  was  finished, 
and  the  divers  dispersed.  No  great  pearl  had  been 
brought  up,  though  Mapuhi  and  his  tribe  had  had  a 


400  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

bountiful  season.  Our  party  broke  up  about  midnight, 
and,  after  the  seafarers  had  gone  down  the  basalt  stairs 
to  their  boat,  and  his  clerks  were  in  bed,  Lutz  and  I  sat 
a  few  minutes.  He,  perhaps,  wanted  to  avow  his  in- 
tentions regarding  Barbe  Narbonne,  to  justify  himself 
about  Mana,  and  to  gain  from  me  the  comfort  of  my 
concurrence  in  his  ethics  and  ambitions,  but  his  stiff 
Prussian  bringing-up  forbade  him.  Instead,  he  spoke 
of  his  childhood  at  Frankfort,  his  education,  and  his 
failure  to  go  to  a  University  on  account  of  poverty.  At 
seventeen,  he  had  been  put  to  work  in  an  exporting 
house  in  Hamburg,  and  had  passed  seven  years  as  an  un- 
derling with  small  pay.  His  chance  had  come  when 
debts  due  the  company  in  Tahiti  called  for  an  experi- 
enced man  in  goods  and  finance  to  go  to  Papeete  and 
wring  a  settlement  from  the  debtor.  He  had  been  able 
to  please  his  firm,  and  to  buy  out  the  failing  concern  by 
Hamburg  backing.  In  the  fourteen  years  since,  he  had 
been  exiled  in  Tahauku,  and  despite  his  grinding  efforts 
and  many  voluntary  privations,  had  not  amassed  much. 
His  mother  and  father  in  Germany  were  dependent  on 
him,  and  he  had  not  been  able  once  to  visit  them  because 
of  the  expense. 

Maybe  the  Patzenhofer  had  mellowed  my  sympathies, 
for  I  agreed  with  him  that  he  was  a  dutiful  son  and  a 
worthy  merchant,  and  that  life  had  not  been  quite  fair 
to  him.  There  was  a  moment  when  I  feared  he  was 
about  to  divulge  his  secret,  but  a  noise  outside  made 
him  start,  and  after  he  had  listened  with  frowning  brow 
a  minute  he  said  good  night.  He  did  not  wish  to  be 
alone,  it  was  evident,  for  he  said  he  would  sleep  on 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  401 

a  straw  couch  in  my  room.     I  heard  him  tossing  as  I 
fell  asleep. 

From  the  hill  of  Calvary  the  next  afternoon  I  saw  the 
Morning  Star  as  she  glided  past  the  opposite  cliffs  of 
Tahauku.  At  least  the  main  barrier  to  Lutz's  plans 
had  gone  tnom  the  Marquesas.  As  Mademoiselle  Nar- 
bonne  no  longer  came  to  Atuona,  I  had  not  seen  her  for 
many  Sundays,  and,  although  I  still  saw  Lutz  on  his 
peregrinations,  and  from  my  Golden  Bed  hearkened  to 
the  iron  of  his  horse's  heels,  I  had  no  direct  nor  even 
fairly  certain  knowledge  that  he  had  won  her  hand. 
Gradually  a  desire  to  see  her,  to  make  sure  of  her  in- 
tentions, grew  in  me,  and  I  had  fixed  the  following  Sun- 
day as  a  date  for  my  journey  to  Taaoa,  when  a  stupe- 
fying incident  disarranged  my  scheme. 

Le  Brunnec,  the  trader,  my  companion  of  the  wild 
cattle  hunting,  was  ever  on  the  outlook  for  information 
or  entertainment  for  me.  Speaking  a  little  English, 
and  by  nature  friendly,  he  now  and  again  sent  to  my 
cabin  a  stranger,  with  a  sealed  note  explaining  the 
bearer's  particular  interest  to  me.  One  day,  there  ap- 
peared an  American  citizen,  Lemoal,  a  twisted,  haggard 
native  of  Paimpol,  who  had  been  an  adventurer  and  vag- 
abond all  about  the  world.  After  a  shell  of  rum,  he  had 
boasted  a  while,  and  then  when  I  had  given  him  another 
drop  with  a  gesture  of  farewell,  he  had  said  with  a  leer 
and  a  curse,  that  he  had  seen  me  with  Mademoiselle  Nar- 
bonne,  and  that  "I  would  better  beware." 

"She  is  a  leper,  that  rich  girl,"  he  had  said;  "every- 
body here  knows  it  but  you.  Let  the  accursed  German 
of  Tahauku  get  it,  not  you  I" 


402  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

He  ambled  down  the  trail  like  an  old  kobold,  a  spirit 
of  evil  and  filth,  wagging  his  long  beard,  and  sucking  at 
his  pipe.  I  threw  away  the  shell  from  which  he  had 
drunk.  But  in  my  horror  at  what  he  had  said,  I  could 
not  forget  that  Mademoiselle  Narbonne  had  asked  me 
a  strange  question,  at  first  meeting — whether  it  was  true 
that  the  Government  was  segregating  the  lepers  in  Ta- 
hiti, and  immuring  them  in  a  leprosarium.  I  had  an- 
swered in  the  affirmative,  and  thought  curiosity  dictated 
the  query.  Now,  with  Lemoal  gone,  his  statement  and 
her  question  rose  together.  Le  Brunnec's  note  said 
that  Lemoal  was  not  to  be  believed  always.  He  might 
have  told  Le  Brunnec  about  Barbe.  It  could  not  be 
true!  Yet,  the  missionary's  daughter  a  half  a  mile 
away  from  me  was  a  leper,  and  Tahiatini,  Many  Daugh- 
ters, was  suspect.  The  Chinese  imported  by  the  Ameri- 
can, Hart,  had  brought  the  terrible  disease  from  Canton, 
and  many  had  died  from  it  in  the  Marquesas.  Those 
who  had  it  were  free  to  live  as  they  pleased,  for  there 
was  no  care  of  them  by  the  authorities.  But  in  Tahiti, 
for  the  first  time,  they  had  taken  them  from  their  fam- 
ilies, and  were  keeping  them  in  a  separate  estate.  It 
was  easy,  with  the  abominable  assertion  of  Lemoal  agi- 
tating me,  to  exaggerate  or  misinterpret  the  meaning  of 
Mademoiselle  Narbonne's  interrogation. 

Did  the  visit  of  Mana  to  the  taua  have  anything  to  do 
with  Lemoal's  wretched  slander  or  gossip? 

I  should  be  a  fool,  I  reckoned,  to  believe  Lemoal. 
Even  the  vicar  apostolic  had  intimated  that  the  Protes- 
tant pastor  was  a  rake,  and  I  knew  him  to  be  a  virtuous 
man.     Gauguin  had  written  in  his  journal  that  the 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  403 

bishop  was  a  "goat,"  and  I  believed  him  a  vow-observing 
celibate.  Much,  then,  I  was  to  credit  this  Hfetime  vil- 
lain, Lemoall  Men  who  stayed  too  long  in  the  South 
Seas  became  natural,  simple  children  of  the  sweet  soil, 
or  decayed  and  rejected,  rotten  fruit  of  civilization 
when  unsuited  to  assimilation. 

A  week  after  Lemoal  had  poisoned  my  mind  with  his 
intimation,  I  met  Mademoiselle  Narbonne  at  Otupotu, 
the  divide  between  the  valleys  of  Atuona  and  Taaoa, 
where  Kahuiti,  the  magnificent  cannibal  of  Taaoa,  had 
trapped  the  Mouth  of  God's  grandfather  and  eaten  him. 
It  was  a  precipice  facing  the  valleys  of  the  island  of 
Hiva-Oa,  as  it  curved  eastward.  The  brilliant  stretch 
of  sea  contrasted  with  dark  glens  in  the  torn,  convulsed 
panorama — ^gloomy  gullies,  suggestive  of  the  old  pagan 
daj^s  when  the  Marquesans  were  free  and  strong. 
Above  the  shadowy  caverns,  the  mountains  caught  the 
light  of  the  dying  sun  and  shone  green  or  black  under 
the  cloudless  sky.  To  sit  there  as  the  day  declined  and 
to  view  the  tragic  marvel  of  the  advent  of  night  was 
to  me  a  raptm-ous  experience  made  sorrowful  by  the 
final  sinking  of  the  sun.  No  long  twilight,  no  roman- 
tic gloaming  followed  the  plunge  of  terror.  I  have  al- 
ways peopled  it  with  afrits  and  leprechawns,  mischiev- 
ous if  not  malicious. 

It  was  an  hour  before  dusk  when  I  arrived,  and  soon 
I  heard,  far  down  the  glade  of  Taaoa,  the  slow  approach 
of  a  horse.  As  the  rider  came  in  view,  I  waved  my 
hand,  and  the  daughter  of  the  Cayennais  called  to  me, 
with  a  trifle  of  surprise  in  her  soft  voice.  She  dis- 
mounted and  sat  beside  me.     She  had  changed.     In 


404  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

what  exactly  I  could  not  define.  She  was  less  self -cen- 
tered, silent,  melancholy.  The  savage  had  fled  from 
iier  face,  and  animation  with  it. 

"I  am  half  French,  but  all  Marquesan,"  she  had  said 
to  me  once. 

She  was  all  white  this  evening.  The  rich  color  had 
deserted  her  cheeks,  and  in  her  pallor  was  tenderness 
and  longing.  I  was  drawn  to  her  as  never  before.  Her 
delicate  hand  crept  into  mine,  and  we  remained  hushed 
a  few  minutes.  Curiously,  the  words  of  Lemoal  did  not 
recur.  She  was  so  perfect,  so  beautiful,  the  nightfall 
so  embracing,  other  thoughts  were  banished.  We  were 
in  a  wild  expanse,  in  a  bed  of  ferns,  and  landward  a 
prodigal  glory  of  palm  and  plant,  vine  and  orchid.  Na- 
ture had  spent  its  richest  colors  and  scents,  its  rarest 
shapes  and  oddest  forms,  for  bird  and  insect,  star  and 
sun,  to  look  upon  and  rejoice  in,  and  with  no  count  of 
man.  In  her  grandest  or  most  subtle  manifestations, 
nature  had  no  thought  to  suit  herself  to  man,  and  only 
as  he  adapted  himself  to  her  thousand  smiles  and  frowns, 
could  he  remain  alive  upon  an  inconsequential  planet 
which  was  nothing  with  the  blazing  star  now  going  down 
in  the  west.  A  shudder,  and  man  died  by  myriads;  a 
breath,  and  he  perished.  But  ever  nature  swelled  the 
seeds  of  her  unthinking  creations  and  ornamented  her 
body  with  fresh  fruitage. 

Sunset  and  death,  the  heat  of  the  day  and  of  life,  and 
then  the  lapsing  years  in  the  descent  toward  the  cold 
grave,  often  stumbling  and  trembling,  and  without  the 
cadence  and  the  color  of  the  passing  day ;  and  both  end- 
ing in  murk  and  fear.  These  tropical  islands  were  for 
youth,  when  every  sense  was  a  well  of  enjoyment. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  405 

Age  must  only  regret  not  having  known  them  sooner. 

The  slim  hand  of  Barbe  Narbonne,  folded  in  mine, 
excited  no  pleasanter  thoughts  than  these  as  we  sat  at 
Otupoto.  I  felt  that  I  must  have  drawn  them  from 
her,  for  I  was  happy,  and  the  tide  of  life  running  strong 
in  my  veins. 

She  broke  the  quiet. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Monsieur  Lutz?"  she  said 
suddenly. 

"What  do  I  think  of  Monsieur  Lutz?"  I  parried. 
"I  like  him.     Why  do  you  ask  me  that?" 

"Because,  Monsieur,  he  has  asked  me  to  marry  him; 
and  I  am  thinking." 

She  took  away  her  hand  and  smoothed  her  brow  as 
if  she  swept  away  cobwebs. 

The  crisis  had  come  in  which  her  future  was  at  pitch 
and  toss.  The  years  of  childhood  make  most  of  us  what 
we  are.  The  white  surrounded  by  Polynesians  in  the 
early  years  of  life,  learning  their  language  first,  and 
having  them  as  playmates,  willy-nilly  becomes  more 
than  half  Polynesian.  Their  tastes,  dreads,  supersti- 
tions, pleasures,  and  ideals  become  his.  Barbe  Nar- 
bonne had  the  savage  blood  of  her  mother  to  accentuate 
her  environment.  The  exigency  that  now  confronted 
her  had  kindled  in  her  divided  soul  for  the  first  time  the 
conflict  between  the  white  and  the  brown.  From  infancy 
she  had  been  in  the  convent,  and  now  she  had  had  a  few 
months  of  unrestraint  in  the  society  of  her  two  mothers, 
and  recently  of  release  even  from  the  rigors  of  the  con- 
fessional and  the  nuns'  admonitions.  She  had  been 
slipping  back  fast  into  the  ways  of  the  Marquesans; 
the  palm-groves  had  claimed  her,  and  the  jungle  was 


406  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

closing  in  upon  her.  The  courtship  of  the  European, 
Lutz,  was  a  challenge  to  her  white  strain,  but  it  was 
confusing,  for  it  added  a  third  element.  Her  mothers' 
semi-savagery,  and  the  convent  strictness  of  rule  were 
in  strife  now  with  this  offer  of  relief  from  both  by  the 
most  important  white  in  the  Marquesas  except  the  gov- 
ernor. 

"Do  you  love  him?"  I  asked  her,  and  looked  into  her 
eyes. 

She  cast  them  down  a  moment  in  confusion  or  medi- 
tation. No  longer  she  wore  black.  That  had  been  in 
imitation  of  the  sisters'  dull  dress,  and  she  had  put  it 
aside  with  the  mass  and  the  confession.  Her  tunic, 
the  simple  flowing  garment  of  the  valley,  was  of  pale 
blue.  Her  hair  was  parted  on  her  low,  delicate  fore- 
head. Her  legs  were  stockingless,  her  feet  thrust  into 
small,  brown  shoes. 

She  raised  her  eyes,  and  replied  slowly,  seeking  the 
answer  herself,  maybe,  at  the  moment. 

"Monsieur  Lutz  is  a  gentleman.  He  says  he  loves 
me.  I  must  marry  a  white  man.  Who  else  is  there? 
If  I  stay  in  Taaoa,  I  shall  become  a  Marquesan  pure. 
It  is  so  easy." 

"fler  manner  was  naive  and  confiding,  and  affected 
me  deeply.     Where  lay  her  chance  for  happiness? 

Abruptly,  the  accusation  of  Lemoal  rung  in  my  ears ; 
and  I  could  hardly  refrain  from  voicing  it,  in  a  wish 
to  hear  her  fierce  denial.  Never  had  she  been  more 
attractive,  more  the  pattern  of  the  most  wholesome  and 
fairest  of  her  mingled  parentage.  I  could  not  resist 
saying: 

"You  know  Lemoal?" 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  407 

"That  cancdUel  He  worked  for  my  father  for  long 
and  cheated  him.  Ah,  he  is  a  bad  one!  Only  the  last 
few  weeks  he  has  been  hanging  about  my  house  to 
wheedle  food  and  drink  from  me  without  return.  He 
is  of  no  account.     Why  do  you  ask?" 

"He  says  that  you  are  ill." 

"111!     I?" 

Her  eyes  closed,  and  her  body  became  limp  an  in- 
stant.    A  flush  spread  over  her  face. 

"Lemoal  said  that!"  she  cried.  "It  is  a  lie!  What 
ill  have  I?  Tuberculosis?  Do  I  cough?  Am  I  thin? 
The  miserable!  It  is  strange.  Kahuiti  and  two  others 
have  asked  me  in  the  past  few  days  if  I  were  ill.  Mon- 
sieur Frederick,  you  are  my  friend.  Look  at  me!  Am 
I  not  well?" 

She  leaped  to  her  feet.  An  instant  she  entertained 
the  suggestion  of  stripping  her  tunic  from  her,  and  re- 
vealing her  entire  body  for  judgment.  She  bared  her 
girlish  bosom,  and  her  hands  tore  at  the  gown,  and  then 
the  convent  inhibitions  conquered,  and  she  hastily  cov- 
ered herself. 

She  blushed  darkly,  and  turned  from  me.  The  mor- 
tal sin  of  immodesty  had  been  the  daily  preachment 
of  the  nuns. 

"I  must  go  home  before  the  night,"  she  said  weakly. 
"I  will  not  go  on  to  the  convent.  Good-by,  my  friend. 
Pray  for  me!" 

The  dusk  was  already  thick  as  she  mounted  her  horse, 
and  I  made  out  the  trail  to  Atuona  with  difficulty. 
Dimly,  I  discerned  the  workings  of  an  unholy  spell,  or 
my  sympathy  for  her  and  my  hatred  for  Lemoal  con- 
jured up  a  web  of  witchcraft  that  would  affright  her 


408  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

suitor,  and  bind  her  to  the  scene  of  her  birth.  How  far 
this  web  had  been  spun  I  could  only  guess.  I  put  the 
matter  flatly  to  Le  Brunnec.  Yes,  he  had  had  the  same 
story  from  Lemoal,  and  so  had  many  others.  As  to 
Lutz's  hearing  it,  he  did  not  know,  but  Lemoal  was  des- 
pised by  Lutz,  who  had  quarreled  with  him  long  ago. 
He  would  not  dare  to  carry  his  tale  to  Tahauku,  nor 
would  any  one.  The  Prussian  trader  in  his  dealings 
had  inculcated  respect  and  a  decent  fear  of  himself. 

That  evening  I  sent  Exploding  Eggs  to  tell  Song 
of  the  Nightingale  I  wanted  to  see  him  at  my  house. 
When  he  came,  I  referred,  after  the  customary  drink 
of  rum,  to  the  taua^  and  declared  my  eager  wish  to  meet 
him.  I  knew  Kahuiti,  of  the  valley  of  Taaoa,  who  was 
still  a  cannibal,  and  I  must  know  the  last  of  the  pagan 
priests  there.  The  cook  was  well  pleased,  and  we 
agreed  that  the  first  evening  the  governor  took  his  din- 
ner at  the  house  of  Bauda  he  would  come  for  me.  Le 
Brunnec  smiled  when  I  let  him  know  my  plan. 

"Go  ahead!"  he  said.  "I  am  no  believer  in  anything 
but  a  reasonable  profit,  and  a  merry  time.  You  can 
do  nothing  if  you  are  trying  to  help  Mademoiselle  Nar- 
bonne.  I  have  seen  too  often  the  meddling  white  fail 
with  these  Marquesans.  They  know  more  about  many 
important  things  than  we  do,  even  if  they  don't  wear 
shoes  or  eat  with  a  fork.  That  old  taua  may  be  a  fool, 
but  they  don't  think  so,  and  there's  the  secret." 

Song  of  the  Nightingale  appeared  at  six,  a  few  even- 
ings later,  and  we  started  on  the  five  miles'  ride  to 
Taaoa.  I  had  borrowed  a  horse  of  Mouth  of  God,  and 
the  prisoner-cook  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  one.  Too 
many  people  dreaded  his  bitter  tongue  and  violent  dis- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  409 

position  to  refuse  him.  As  we  went  through  the  pass 
at  Otupotu  and  descended  the  winding  trail  to  the  ad- 
joining valley,  the  sun  was  below  the  far  tops  of  the 
green  hills  and  was  tinting  all  the  sky  in  shades  of  soft- 
est red.  Clouds,  edged  with  brilliant  gold,  were  like 
lilies  in  a  garden  of  roses.  The  air  was  still  and  heavy 
when  we  rode  by  the  sulphurous  springs  where  Mouth 
of  God's  grandfather  was  slain  by  Kahuiti's  spear.  My 
guide  avoided  the  village  of  Taaoa,  and  took  a  path 
which  led  by  a  graveyard. 

On  an  obelisk  had  been  inscribed  half  a  century  be- 
fore: 

Inei  Teavi  o  te  mata  einana  o  Taaoa. 

"Here  lie  the  bodies  of  the  people  of  Taaoa."  An 
all-inclusive  tombstone,  for  there  was  no  other,  but,  in- 
stead, banana-plants,  hadamiers,  fi-apples,  and  chile 
peppers,  the  fiery-red  pods  of  the  latter  bright  against 
the  green  and  black.  Behind  the  burial-place  were  two 
great  aoa  trees,  giant  banyans  that  must  have  been  there 
when  the  first  adventurous  white  cast  anchor  in  these 
waters.  In  the  lessening  light,  they  had  a  mysterious 
air  of  life  in  death ;  they  were  moribund  with  age,  twisted 
and  gnarled  like  those  century-old  Mission  Indians  of 
California  who  sit  outside  their  adobe  hovels  and  show 
a  thousand  wrinkles  on  their  naked  bodies.  Yet  these 
banyans  were  filled  with  life,  for  a  hundred  new  shoots 
were  thrusting  from  above  into  the  rich  mold  of  the 
earth,  and  presaging  renewal  of  the  dead  limbs  and 
greater  growth  of  the  whole. 

The  trees  covered  acres,  overpowering  in  their  im- 
mensity, with  columns  of  regular  and  solemn  symmetry. 
Their  ponderous  buttresses  were  like  towers,  but  divided 


410  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

into  many  separate  chambers  where  the  branches  had 
descended  from  heights  to  become  roots,  and  later  other 
columns.  These  trees  were  individuals,  shattered  and 
worn  by  existence,  broken  by  storms,  the  boughs  arching 
a  hundred  feet  from  the  ground  to  let  down  grotesque 
and  curving  branches  that  blindly  groped  for  a  grasp 
upon  the  soil.  They  were  tragedies  in  wood,  and  stirred 
in  me  memories  of  old  French  tales  of  darksome  wolds, 
of  the  shadowy,  dripping  spinneys  where  the  loup  garou 
lay  in  wait  for  the  bodies  and  souls  of  his  victims. 

Into  one  of  the  cells  of  the  banyan.  Song  of  the  Night- 
ingale led  me.  As  large  as  an  average  room,  it  was  di- 
vided by  a  tapa  hanging,  and  from  behind  this  came,  at 
his  call,  the  taua.  He  had  a  snow-white  beard  and  long 
hair,  and  was  very  old.  His  body  was  quite  covered 
with  tattooing,  the  most  elaborate  designs  I  had  seen. 
The  candlenut  ink,  originally  blackish-brown  upon  his 
dark  skin,  had,  as  the  result  of  decades  of  kava  drink- 
ing, turned  to  a  verde-antique,  like  the  patina  upon  an 
ancient  bronze. 

''Moa  taputoho/'  said  Song,  with  extreme  seriousness. 
"A  sacred  hermit."  One  who  had  forsaken  all  the  com- 
mon things  of  existence  to  commune  with  the  gods. 

The  sorcerer's  surrounding  were  druidic,  remindful  of 
the  Norns,  who  dwelt  beneath  the  world-tree  Ygdrasil, 
Urd  and  Verdande  and  Skuld,  and  decided  the  fate  of 
men. 

He  gazed  at  me  intently,  raised  his  hand  in  a  grave 
manner,  and  said  something  to  my  companion  which 
I  did  not  understand. 

"He  asks  if  you  want  anything  of  him,"  explained  the 
convict. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  411 

"Yes,  I  do,"  I  replied.  "Ask  him  if  the  daughter 
of  Liha-liha  is  a  leper?" 

My  interpreter  did  not  put  the  question  direct,  but 
I  comprehended  his  many  sentences  to  state  my  mean- 
ing. 

The  tatia  pursed  his  lips  and  withdrew  behind  the 
curtain.  From  his  hidden  fane  issued  the  deep  rum- 
bling of  his  voice  in  a  chant. 

"He  is  asking  the  tiki,  the  image  of  the  god,"  said 
Song,  fearfully. 

I  confess  I  was  aware  of  a  depression  approaching 
fear.  It  was  dark  in  the  banyan  cell,  and  a  torch  of 
candlenuts  threw  a  fitful  glimmer  on  the  tapa  and  the 
scabrous  walls. 

Soon  above  the  indistinct  voice  of  the  taua  was  the 
sound  of  something  in  the  branches  of  the  banyan,  of 
a  flapping  of  wings,  and  a  knocking. 

"It  is  a  bat,"  I  whispered  to  Song. 

"It  is  the  god  coming  to  answer,"  said  he,  cowering 
with  real  horror. 

A  dreadful  thing  it  is  not  to  believe  in  the  supernat- 
ural when  in  ordinary  surroundings,  and  yet  to  be  sub- 
ject to  horrible  misgivings  when  circumstances  conjure 
up  visions  of  terror. 

The  uncanny  noises  in  the  tree  increased,  and  then 
the  mamjnoth  banyan  shook  as  though  an  earthquake 
vibrated  it.  Song  and  I  were  now  flat  on  the  ground, 
and  I  repeated  an  invocation  of  my  childhood : 

"From  the  powers  of  Lucifer,  O,  Mary,  deliver  us  I" 

I  said  it  over  and  over  again,  and  it  numbed  my 
senses  during  the  few  minutes  that  the  pandemonium 
continued. 


412  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

When  the  taua  emerged,  Song  turned  his  back  upon 
him,  and,  taking  my  hand,  reversed  me,  too, 

"Tapu!"  he  said,  nervously. 

"Tuituir  began  the  moa  taputoho.  "Be  silent!" 
and  in  a  staccato  manner  pronounced  his  divination. 
His  tone  was  orotund  and  dignijfied,  and  impressive  of 
sincerity.  The  words  were  symbolic,  and  of  other 
generations,  and  Song  waited  until  he  had  finished  to 
translate  them.  Before  he  could  do  this,  the  taua  said, 
'^ApaeT  a  word  of  dismissal,  and  retired.  Song  seized 
me  by  the  hand  as  I  went  toward  the  curtain,  and  pulled 
me  away;  but,  for  a  second,  I  had  a  glimpse  of  a  rude, 
basalt  altar  built  against  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  and  on 
it  a  stone  image  before  which  was  a  heap  of  fruit.  I 
was  directed  speedily  away  from  the  banyan,  and  not 
until  we  had  mounted  our  horses  and  galloped  a  hundred 
feet  did  the  convict  answer  my  question. 

"The  moa  taputoho  said  that  this  girl  will  offend  the 
god  if  she  marries  a  haoe,  a  foreigner,  and  that  she 
knows  already  how  the  god  will  punish  her  if  she  leaves 
her  own  valley  of  Taaoa." 

And  flinging  out  the  words  as  we  pounded  up  the  hill, 
it  was  as  if  the  maker  of  moonshine  was  more  propheti- 
cal than  the  taua  himself,  or  was  a  most  interested 
mouthpiece,  for  he  put  into  them  a  malevolence  missing 
from  the  aged  hermit's  voice.  That  had  been  majes- 
tic though  forboding,  while  the  intonation  of  Song  of 
the  Nightingale  was  personal  and  harsh.  Maybe  he 
hated  Lutz  as  did  Lemoal.  Le  Brunnec  corroborated 
my  suspicion. 

"Lutz  found  him  stealing  a  demijohn  of  rum,  and  had 
him  sent  to  prison  for  several  months,"  said  the  Breton. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  413 

"But,  granted  that  every  one  hates  the  German,"  he 
continued,  "y^"  ^^^  wasting  your  sympathy  and  time. 
I  predict  that  Lutz  will  get  Mademoiselle  Narbonne, 
but  that  the  taua  and  his  magic  will  snare  her  finally. 
These  people  are  born  to  be  unhappy  and  to  die  under 
our  Christian  dispensation." 

So,  from  day  to  day,  the  rumor  of  her  dismaying  con- 
dition spread,  until  it  was  known  to  almost  everyone  of 
the  few  thousand  Marquesans  in  all  the  islands,  and  to 
all  others:  except  Lutz.  His  wooing  had  not  ceased, 
and  when  the  day's  work  was  done  at  Tahauku,  and  his 
evening  meal  despatched,  as  for  months,  he  thought 
nothing  of  the  ten  slippery  miles  in  the  pitchy  blackness 
to  and  from  the  home  of  his  Golden  Maid.  His  hoof- 
beats  entered  into  my  dreams,  and  after  midnight  I  of- 
ten awoke  as  they  resounded  on  the  little  bridge  across 
the  stream  by  the  Catholic  Church,  Poor  devil !  He  was 
to  pay  dear  for  his  brief  dream. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Holy  Week — How  the  rum  was  saved  during  the  storm — An  Easter  Sun- 
day "Celebration" — The  Governor,  Commissaire  Bauda  and  I  have 
a  discussion — Paul  Vernire,  the  Protestant  pastor,  and  his  Church — 
How  the  girls  of  the  valley  imperilled  the  immortal  souls  of  the  first 
missionaries — Jimmy  Kekela,  his  family — A  watch  from  Abraham 
Lincoln. 

HOLY  Week  passed  in  a  riot  of  uncommon 
amusement.  Its  religious  significance — ^the 
most  sacred  period  of  the  year  both  for  Cath- 
oHcs  and  Protestants — was  emphasized  by  priest  and 
preacher  with  every  observance  of  the  church,  but  the 
lay  white  harked  back  to  the  mood  of  the  ancient  feast 
of  spring  and  drew  the  natives  with  them.  Permits  to 
buy  rum  and  wine  were  much  sought  for  by  the  Marque- 
sans,  to  whom  drink  was  forbidden.  The  governor  was 
of  an  easy  disposition,  and  few  who  had  the  price  of  a 
dame-jeayine  of  rum  or  wine  failed  to  secure  it.  As 
Lutz,  the  German  trader  at  Tahauku,  the  adjoining 
valley,  was  the  only  importer  of  intoxicants,  the  canoes 
were  active  between  our  beach  of  Atuona  and  the  stone 
steps  at  Tahauku,  while  others  rode  a-horse  or  walked. 
On  Holy  Thursday  an  uninformed  new-comer  might 
have  pronounced  the  Marquesans  a  bustling  race  with 
a  liquid  diet. 

Cloudbursts  had  swollen  the  streams,  and  made  the 
trails  troughs  of  mud,  so  that  when  Exploding  Eggs 
and  Mouth  of  God  and  I  arrived  at  Atuona  beach  with 
our  empties  we  were  glad  to  place  the  receptacles  in  the 

411 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  4.15 

canoe  of  a  fisherman  for  transport  to  Lutz's.  A  ges- 
ture of  my  cupped  hand  to  my  mouth  made  him  eager 
to  oblige  me.  We  walked  up  the  hill  and  past  the  Scal- 
lamera  leper-house.  My  friends'  bare  feet  and  skill 
made  it  hard  for  me  to  keep  up  with  them.  Shoes  are 
clumsy  shifts  for  naked  soles.  After  a  glass  of  Munich 
beer  and  a  pretzel  with  Lutz,  Exploding  Eggs  finding 
his  own  little  canoe  at  the  stone  steps,  we  loaded  the 
demi- Johns  in  it  and  the  fisherman's.  I  went  with  the 
latter,  and  Mouth  of  God  with  my  valet.  The  canoes 
were  narrow  and  they  sank  to  the  gunwales  with  the 
weight.  The  tide  of  the  swollen  river  tore  through  the 
bay,  and  soon  Mouth  of  God  cried  out  that  we  must 
take  Exploding  Eggs  in  our  craft.  The  boy  trans- 
fered  himself  deftly,  and  Mouth  of  God's  canoe  shot 
ahead.  It  became  necessary  for  us  to  bail,  for  the  water 
poured  in  over  the  unprotected  sides,  and  the  boy  and  I 
used  our  hats  actively.  Suddenly  the  fisherman  in  ag- 
onizing voice  announced  that  we  could  not  stay  afloat. 
He  gave  no  thought  to  our  bodily  plight,  the  racing  cur- 
rent, and  the  rapacious  sharks,  but  laid  stress  on  our 
freight. 

*'Auer  The  rum  will  be  lost!"  he  shouted,  as  the 
canoe  weltered  deeper,  and  then,  without  ado,  both  he 
and  Exploding  Eggs  leaped  into  the  brine.  The  canoe 
staggered  and  rose,  and,  after  freeing  it  from  water, 
I  paddled  it  to  shore,  while  the  pair  swam  alongside, 
watching  the  precious  burden. 

All  night  the  torrent  roared  near  my  home.  The  big 
boulders  rolled  down  the  rocky  bed,  groaning  in  travail. 
The  solid  shot  of  cocoanut  and  breadfruit,  sped  by  the 
gale,  fell  on  my  iron  roof  while  the  furious  rain  was  like 


416  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

cannister.  The  trees  made  noises  as  a  sailing  ship  in  a 
storm,  singing  wildly,  whistling  as  does  the  cordage, 
and  the  crash  of  their  fall  sounding  as  the  freed  canvas 
banging  on  the  yards.  Sleep  was  not  for  me,  but  I 
smoked  and  wrote,  and  listened  to  the  chorus  of  an- 
gered nature  until  daybreak. 

In  the  first  light  I  saw  Father  David,  in  soutane  and 
surplice,  attended  by  two  barelegged  acolytes,  fording 
the  breast-high  river.  He  held  aloft  the  golden  box  con- 
taining the  sacred  bread,  and  one  of  the  acolytes  carried 
a  bell  of  warning.  Paro  had  the  black  leprosy,  and  in 
his  hut  far  up  the  valley,  on  his  mat  of  suffering,  waited 
for  the  comfort  of  communion.  Ail  day  three  priests 
moved  up  and  down  urging  the  people  to  confess  and 
"make  their  Easter." 

Titihuti,  the  magnificently  tattooed  matron,  went 
with  me  to  the  ceremony  of  Honi  Pekuy  the  Kissing  of 
the  Crucifix.  Honi  really  meant  to  rub  noses  or  smell 
each  other's  faces,  for  the  Marquesans  had  no  labial 
kiss.  The  Catholic  church  was  well  filled,  and  each  na- 
tive in  turn  approached  the  railing  of  the  channel,  and 
rubbed  his  nose  over  the  desolate  figure  of  the  Savior. 
It  was  a  wonderful  magic  to  them.  The  next  day. 
Good  Friday  or  Venini  Tapu,  I  asked  Great  Fern  what 
event  that  day  commemorated. 

"letu-Kirito  was  killed  by  his  enemies,  the  tribe  of 
luda,"  he  replied,  as  he  might  relate  a  tribal  feud  in 
these  islands. 

Holy  Saturday  was  a  joyous  holiday,  and  on  Easter 
Sunday  the  climax  of  the  feasting  and  merriment  came. 
The  communion-rail  was  crowded,  many  complying 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  417 

with  the  church  compulsion  of  taking  the  sacrament 
once  a  year  under  pain  of  mortal  sin.  There  was  com- 
pensation for  celibacy  and  exile  in  Father  David's  ex- 
pression of  delight  as  he  put  into  each  communicant's 
mouth  the  host.  He  was  the  leading  actor  in  a  divine 
drama,  the  conversion  by  his  few  words  of  consecration 
of  a  flour  wafer  into  the  actual  body  and  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  histrionic  was  mixed  with  and  a  moving 
part  of  his  exaltation. 

He  gave  to  all,  including  Peyral  and  me,  the  only 
white  attendants,  a  little  loaf  of  bread  he  had  blessed; 
faraoa  benetitio  in  Marquesan,  or  flour  benedicto.  Ah 
Suey  took  communion,  and  after  mass  hurried  to  me. 
The  reputed  murderer  of  Wagner,  the  American,  was 
prideful  because  he  was  the  baker  of  the  faraoa  benetitio. 

"How  you  likee  that  bleadee?"  he  asked  me.  "My 
bake  him  bleadee,  pliest  make  him  holee.  Bimeby  me 
ketchee  heaven,"  he  said  in  all  seriousness. 

Titihuti,  my  neighbor,  joined  me  to  walk  to  our 
homes,  and,  knowing  her  to  miss  no  masses  on  Sundays, 
I  asked  her  why  she  had  not  received  the  sacrament. 
She  said  she  had  never  partaken  of  it,  that  she  had  yet 
to  make  her  first  communion  of  the  Lord's  supper. 

"But,  Titihuti,"  I  remonstrated,  "you  know  that  you 
are  in  danger  of  hell-fire.  You  believe  in  the  Catholic 
doctrine,  you  say,  and  despite  that  you  disregard  its 
strict  order." 

Titihuti  I  realized  was  a  heathen,  still  full  of  animist 
superstitions,  and  I  was  not  unprepared  to  hear  her 
answer : 

"If  I  took  the  host  into  my  mouth  I  would  die.     The 


418  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

mandkao  would  seize  me.  I  will  wait  until  I  am  about 
to  die,  and  then  Pere  David  will  give  me  the  viaticum, 
and  I  will  go  straight  to  aki" 

The  manakao  is  a  demon,  and  aki  is  paradise.  Titi- 
huti  was  intending  to  take  the  chance  that  kings  and 
others  took  in  the  early  days  of  Christianity,  when, 
being  taught  that  baptism  wiped  out  all  sins,  thej'^  kept 
an  alert  clergyman  always  near  them  to  sprinkle  them 
and  speed  them  to  heaven,  and  meanwhile  they  sinned 
as  they  pleased. 

By  noon  the  entire  village  was  chanting  and  dancing. 
The  unusual  removal  of  the  restriction  against  bever- 
ages made  Easter  a  pagan  rout.  The  natives  became 
uninhibited,  if  not  natural,  for  a  few  hours.  Several 
times  the  governor  had  had  groups  at  his  palace  to  give 
exhibitions  of  their  aboriginal  dances,  but  this  feast-day 
he  extended  a  general  invitation  to  a  levee.  Fifty  or 
sixty  men  or  women  enjoyed  the  utmost  hospitality. 
The  young  ruler  was  bent  on  seeing  their  fullest  expres- 
sion of  mirth,  without  any  restraint  of  sobriety.  The 
noise  of  their  songs  echoed  to  the  mission,  where  the 
nuns  prayed  that  some  brand  might  be  spared  from  the 
holocaust.  Swaggering  chiefs  and  beauteous  damsels 
abandoned  themselves  to  the  spirit  of  the  day.  The 
dances  were  without  order.  Whenever  a  man  or  woman 
felt  the  urge  they  sprang  to  their  feet  and  began  the 
tapiriata.  Under  the  palms,  upon  the  verandas,  in  the 
salle  a  manger,  in  every  corner  of  the  palace  and  its 
grounds,  the  people,  astonished  at  such  unwonted  free- 
dom and  such  lavish  bounty,  showed  their  appreciation 
in  movements  of  their  bodies  and  legs.  The  fairest  girls 
surrounded  the  host,  and  with  sinuous  circlings  and  a 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  419 

thousand  blandishments  entertained  and  thanked  him. 
The  chants  by  the  elders  were  of  his  greatness.  The 
young  sang  of  passion. 

From  the  hill  near  the  cemetery  where  Guillitoue,  the 
anarchist,  dwelt,  sounded  the  drums.  I  was  the  es- 
pecial guest  there  in  the  afternoon,  and  those  who  were 
not  too  deep  in  the  pool  of  pleasure  at  the  palace  climbed 
the  mountain.  The  orator  had  built  a  shelter  of  bam- 
boo and  cocoanut  leaves,  graceful  and  clean,  and  upon 
its  carpet  of  leaves  we  sat.  Guillitoue  in  a  loin-cloth 
and  black  frock-coat  moved  about  among  the  three 
score  with  a  dame- Jeanne  in  each  hand,  and  poured  rum 
or  wine  at  request.  Occasionally  he  broke  into  a  wild 
hula,  grotesque  as  he  whirled  about  with  the  wickered 
bottles  at  arms-length.  From  other  valleys  whites  and 
natives  had  come  to  the  koina.  Thirty  horses  were  tied 
to  the  cemetery  railing.  Amiable  gaiety  and  ludicrous 
baboonery  passed  the  afternoon. 

Frederick  Tissot,  a  storekeeper  at  Puamau,  a  Swiss 
in  his  fifties,  ten  years  in  the  Foreign  Legion  of  Al- 
giers, a  worker  upon  the  Chicago  Exposition  buildings 
in  the  early  nineties,  and  seventeen  years  here,  spoke 
of  the  "good  time"  when  he  worked  at  Zinkand's  res- 
taurant in  San  Francisco. 

"I  drank  thirty  quarts  of  beer  a  day.  I  was  cook, 
and  the  bartenders  stood  in  with  me  for  bonnes  houches. 
I  never  tasted  solid  food.  I  had  soup  and  booze.  I 
nearly  died  in  a  year,  and  had  to  leave." 

He  sighed  at  the  memory  of  those  golden  days. 
Later  I  saw  him  falling  off  his  horse,  and  laid  upon  a 
mat  in  a  native  house. 

James  Nichols,  son  of  a  Chicagoan,  dignified,  tall  and 


420  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

thin,  almost  white,  with  side-whiskers,  a  black  cutaway, 
overalls,  and  bare  feet,  a  shoeless  butler  for  all  the 
world,  had  a  tale  for  me  of  his  father's  marrying  in 
Tahiti  a  member  of  the  royal  family  of  Pomare,  and 
of  himself  being  born  on  Christmas  Island. 

"A  wild  island  that,"  said  the  quasi-butler  in  English. 
"Captain  Cook  discovered  it  when  he  was  steering  north 
from  Borabora  on  Christmas  day.  He  stayed  there  a 
few  weeks  and  saw  an  eclipse  of  the  sun.  He  took 
away  three  hundred  turtles.  When  I  lived  there  they 
melted  cocoanuts  into  oil,  and  my  father  was  the  cooper. 
Cook  had  planted  cocoanuts  there.  It  is  an  atoll,  a 
lonely  place,  and  I  was  glad  to  leave.  I  learned  Eng- 
lish from  my  father,  and  married  a  Paumotu  lady.  I 
was  in  Tahiti  until  eight  years  ago,  when  the  cyclone 
wiped  me  out.  Here  I  work  for  the  mission,  making 
copra,  and  I  am  the  tinker  and  tinsmith.  Here  's  look- 
ing at  you!" 

Jensen,  the  young  and  engaging  Dane,  who  will 
never  return  to  civilization,  trod  a  measure  with  a 
charming  girl  from  Hanamenu. 

"The  clan  of  the  Puna  has  left  its  bare  paepaes  all 
over  her  valley,"  he  said.     "She  is  the  last." 

At  dark  the  cavalcade  reeled  down  the  hill,  leaving 
Pierre  Guillitoue  sleeping  beside  the  drum.  Despite 
his  late  fifties  and  his,  to  say  the  least,  irregular  way  of 
living,  Pierre  is  strong  and  healthy. 

Captain  Cook  marveled  in  his  diary  that  "since  the 
arrival  of  the  ship  in  Batavia  [Java]  every  person  be- 
longing to  her  has  been  ill,  except  the  sailmaker,  who 
was  more  than  seventy  years  old ;  yet  this  man  got  drunk 
every  day  while  we  remained  there." 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  421 

A  white  man  lured  away  the  consort  of  Ahi,  an  agree- 
able young  man  much  in  love.  I  found  the  lorn  hus- 
band screaming  in  grief. 

"Tahiatauani,  my  wife,  my  wife!"  he  cried  out.  The 
Marquesan  weeps  with  facility.  Hour  after  hour  this 
stalwart  fellow  let  fall  tears,  lying  on  the  ground  in 
agony.     Then  he  rose  and  said  no  more  about  it. 

Easter  Sunday  went  out  in  a  blaze  of  riotous  glory. 
I  saw  Ah  Suey  after  nightfall  inquiring  anxiously  and 
angrily  for  his  daughter.  The  nuns  had  reported  to 
him  that  she  had  failed  to  appear  for  vespers.  That 
night  in  the  breadfruit-grove  by  the  High  Place  they 
enacted  the  old  orgies  of  pre-Christian  days.  Thirty 
men  and  women,  mostly  young,  sang  the  ancient  songs 
and  danced  by  the  lights  of  lanterns,  of  candlenuts  and 
fagots,  and  to  the  sound  of  the  booming  drums. 

I  sat  at  wine  the  next  day  with  Father  David  in  the 
mission-house.  It  was  bare  and  ugly  as  all  convents, 
having  the  scant,  ascetic,  uncomfortable  atmosphere 
that  monks  and  nuns  dwell  in  all  over  the  world — no  or- 
naments, no  good  pictures,  no  ease.  Stark  walls,  stiff 
chairs,  and  the  staring,  rude  crucifix  over  the  door.  The 
apostolic  vicar  censured  the  Government  severely.  He 
plucked  his  long,  black  beard  nervously,  and  spoke  his 
feelings  in  the  imperious  manner  of  a  mortal  who  holds 
the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  castigating  fools 
who  would  n't  even  learn  there  was  a  door.  There  was 
no  trace  of  personal  pride. 

"The  government  here  and  in  France  is  unjust  to 
the  church.  We  suffer  from  the  impiety  and  wicked- 
ness of  French  officials.  The  people  of  France  are 
right  at  heart,  but  the  politicians  are  Antichrists.     The 


422  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Protestants  are  bad  enough,  but  the  French  are  Cath- 
olics, or  should  be.  This  young  governor  here  is  a 
veritable  heathen,  and  has  shown  the  people  the  road 
to  hell  again,  when  they  had  hardly  trod  the  via  trita, 
via  tuta.  He  and  Bauda  are  godless  men.  Monsieur, 
rum  is  forbidden  to  be  given  to  a  Marquesan,  yet  the 
valley  floats  in  rum.  I  know  that  to  get  copra  made 
one  must  stretch  the  strict  rod  of  the  law  a  trifle,  but 
not  to  drunkenness,  nor  to  dances  of  the  devil,  dances, 
that,  frowned  upon,  might  be  forgotten." 

The  governor,  Commissaire  Bauda,  and  I  dined  that 
night  on  the  palace  veranda,  and  afterward  we  had  an 
animated  discussion.     I  wrote  it  down  verbatim: 

Governor.  What  was  it  Pere  David  said  to  you, 
mon  ami? 

I.  He  said  that  the  Catholic  church  was  badly 
treated  by  the  officials  here. 

Governor.  Yes,  he  wants  another  great  slice  of 
land.  Oh,  that  church  is  insatiable!  One  of  my  pred- 
ecessors, GrosfiUez,  fought  them.  Here  is  his  report 
in  the  archives:  He  says  that,  contrary  to  their  claims 
that  they  have  caused  the  republic  to  be  loved  here, 
that  they  have  taught  the  Franch  language,  and  have 
raised  the  natives  from  savagery,  from  immorality  and 
evil  manners,  the  facts  are  that  they  have  not  changed 
a  particle  the  morals  of  the  Marquesans,  that  they 
taught  in  their  schools  a  trifling  smattering  of  Fre'nch, 
and  that  they  did  not  make  France  loved  and  respected, 
but  sought  the  domination  of  their  order,  the  Picpus 
Congregation,  at  the  expense  of  the  Government.  This 
domination  they  forced  in  the  early  days  at  the  point 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  423 

of  the  bayonet,  to  the  sacrifice  of  the  lives  of  French  of- 
ficers and  soldiers. 

Bauda.  That  is  true  here  and  everjrwhere  we 
French  have  gone.  We  have  died  to  spread  the  power 
of  the  church.  Norm  d'un  chien!  Six  campaigns  in  Af- 
rica, me !  Et  pire  alors!  Did  not  General  La  Grande 
pin  this  decoration  on  me? 

GovEENOR.  Here  is  the  very  letter  of  GrosfiUez  to 
the  authorities.  He  says  that  he  visited  the  school  at 
Tai-o-hae,  and  that  when  he  spoke  to  the  pupils,  many 
of  them  three  or  four  years  in  the  school,  the  good  sis- 
ter asked  permission  to  translate  his  simple  words  into 
canaque  so  they  could  understand.  Sapristi!  Is  that 
teaching  French?  Is  not  the  calendar  of  the  church 
here  filled  with  foolishness,  and  almost  all  in  canaque? 
Hdn?    Read  this : 

The  governor  thrust  into  my  hands  the  almanac  writ- 
ten by  Father  Simeon  Delmas,  of  Tai-o-hae,  and  pub- 
lished by  the  mission.  It  was  in  hektograph,  neatly  and 
beautifully  written,  and  contained  the  religious  calen- 
dar of  the  year,  and  sermons,  admonitions,  and  anec- 
dotes, in  Marquesan,  with  a  small  minority  in  French; 
a  photograph  of  Monseigneur  Etienne  Rouchouze,  for- 
mer vicar  apostolic  to  Oceanica,  with  praise  for  his  ca- 
reer ;  an  anecdote  of  Bernadette  of  Lourdes,  the  famous 
peasant  girl  to  whom  the  Virgin  Mary  appeared,  to- 
gether with  a  list  of  the  apparitions  of  the  Virgin  in 
France,  beginning  in  1830,  the  other  dates  being  '46, 
'58,  '71,  and  '76;  a  prayer  to  Joan  of  Arc,  with  an  at- 
tack on  Protestantism  (Porotetane)  for  burning  her, 
and  something  about  the  Duke  of  Guise;  a  stirring  ar- 


424  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

tide  on  Nero's  persecution  of  the  Christians ;  an  account 
of  the  Fall  of  the  Bastille;  a  comparison  between  Clovis, 
king  of  France,  and  Napoleon;  a  tale  of  Charles  V; 
and  a  table  showing  that  the  Catholic  church  had  estab- 
lished missions  in  all  the  inhabited  islands  of  this  group 
since  1858,  and  giving  the  number  of  children  in  the 
schools  when  they  were  closed  by  the  government  as 
clerical. 

"The  mountain  groaned  and  brought  forth  a  mouse, 
a  soldier,"  said  the  almanac. 

"That  is  treason,"  said  the  governor,  looking  over  my 
shoulder,  "and  what  has  all  that  foolishness  to  do  with 
a  dying  race  that  does  not  know  what  it  means?  The 
church  has  done  nothing  for  these  people.  They  are 
not  changed  except  for  the  worse.  What  has  the  church 
done  for  their  health?  Nothing.  My  predecessor 
wanted  to  stop  the  eating  of  popoi.  He  knew  that  it  is 
dirty,  not  healthful,  and  the  promiscuous  way  of  eating 
it  spreads  disease.  The  church  fought  him  and  said 
popoi  was  all  right.  France!  Have  we  not  suffered 
enough  by  that  church  since  the  Edict  of  Nantes? 
Since  time  immemorial?  The  church  is  a  corporation, 
selfish,  scheming,  always  against  any  government  it  does 
not  control.  It  has  been  the  evil  genius  of  France. 
Only  Napoleon  harnessed  the  beast  and  made  it  do  his 
work,  but  it  saw  his  humbling.  The  priests  tell  the 
canaques  the  Government  is  against  the  church,  and 
that  the  church  is  in  the  right;  that  it  is  the  duty 
of  every  Catholic  to  love  the  church  first,  because 
the  church  is  Christ.  They  do  not  preach  disaffec- 
tion. Peut-etre,  non.  But  they  do  not  preach  affec- 
tion. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  425 

I.  But  you  must  admit  that  these  priests  lead  lives 
of  self-sacrifice ;  that  personally  they  gain  nothing.  A 
meager  fare  and  hard  work.     They  visit  the  sick 

Governor.  Visit  the  sick?  They  do  that,  and  they 
bury  the  dead.  But  they  do  nothing  to  better  condi- 
tions. We  teach  sanitation.  The  priests  are  them- 
selves either  ignorant  or  neglectful  of  sanitation.  Their 
calendars,  their  tracts,  their  preaching,  say  not  a  word 
about  health,  cleanliness;  nothing  about  the  body,  but 
all  about  the  soul,  about  duties  to  the  church.  I  am 
here  primarily  to  study  and  aid  the  lepers,  the  consump- 
tives and  the  other  sick.  To  try  and  halt  the  disease 
which  has  killed  thousands  of  unborn  children,  and  the 
tuberculosis  which  takes  most  of  the  Marquesans  in 
youth.  I  am  a  soldier,  experienced  in  Africa,  used  to 
leprosy,  and  the  care  of  natives.  In  Africa  the  church 
gives  nothing  to  the  people  but  its  ritual.  What  has 
the  church  done  here  after  seventy  years? 

I.  Ah,  governor,  that  is  the  very  question  Pbre 
David  asked  me  as  to  the  Government.  He  says  they 
looked  after  the  lepers  when  they  had  a  free  hand  here. 

Governor.  Looked  after  them.  They  were  not 
physicians.  Those  men  are  peasants  crammed  with  a 
pitiful  theology.  They  shall  have  nothing  from  me  but 
the  law. 

He  attacked  the  intermezzo  of  "Cavalleria  Rusticana'* 
on  his  flute,  as  Many  Daughters  arrived.  Over  her  ear 
was  a  sprig  of  fern,  and  about  her  neck  a  string  of  fra- 
grant nuts.  Her  very  large  eyes  were  singularly  bril- 
liant. 

"C'est  toi  qm  pousse  le  pu  rne  metai/*  she  compli- 
mented and  tutoyed.     ''C'est  toi  qui  na  pas  la  pake? 


426  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

It  is  thou  who  playest  the  flute  wonderfully.  It  is  thou 
who  has  not  any  tobacco?" 

"Ah,  ma  file,  you  are  well?  You  will  have  a  drop  of 
absinthe?"  said  the  governor. 

"With  pleasure;  I  am  as  dry  as  the  inside  of  an  old 
skull." 

"But,  my  friend,"  I  remonstrated  with  the  executive, 
aside.  "She  is  a  leper.  Her  sister  is,  too.  Are  you 
not  afraid?     She  drinks  from  our  glasses." 

"Me?  I  am  a  soldier,  and  a  student  of  leprosy.  It 
is  my  hobby.  It  is  mysterious,  that  disease.  I  watch 
her  closely." 

If  the  apostolic  vicar  felt  keenly  his  inability  to  man- 
age the  affairs  of  the  village  and  the  islands  to  suit  his 
ideas  of  morality  and  religion,  so  did  the  Protestant  pas- 
tor. My  house  was  very  near  the  mission,  and  it  was 
some  days  after  I  had  arrived  before  I  went  to  the  dis- 
senting church,  half  a  mile  across  the  valley.  Monsieur 
Paul  Vernier,  the  Protestant  pastor,  had  been  many 
years  in  the  Marquesas.  He  was  respected  by  the  un- 
godly. Guillitoue  hailed  him  as  a  brother,  anarchist 
and  infidel  though  he  was  himself.  Vernier  alternated 
between  hunting  souls  to  save  and  bulls  to  shoot,  for  he 
was  a  very  son  of  Cush,  and  his  quest  of  the  wild  cattle 
of  the  mountains  had  put  him  upon  their  horns  more 
than  once.  Salvation  he  held  first,  and  he  was  canny 
in  copra,  but  many  nights  he  lay  ^pon  the  tops  of  the 
great  hills  when  pursuit  of  game  had  led  him  far. 

Vernier  had  a  background,  for,  though  born  in  Tahiti, 
his  father  had  been  a  man  of  culture  and  his  mother  a 
charming  Frenchwoman,  whose  home  in  Tahiti  was 
memorable  to  visitors.     Vernier  had  devoted  his  life  to 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  427 

the  Marquesans,  and  lived  in  this  simple  atmosphere 
without  regret  for  Tahiti.  The  apostolic  vicar  said 
that  Vernier  was  Antichrist  made  manifest  in  the  flesh, 
but  that  was  on  account  of  the  odium  iheologicum, 
which  here  was  as  bitter  as  in  Worms  or  Geneva  of  old. 
The  spirit  of  Pere  David  was  pierced  by  the  occasional 
defections  from  his  flock  caused  by  the  proselytizing  of 
(Vernier.  Before  I  met  him  I  had  gone  to  his  church 
with  Great  Fern  and  Apporo.  It  was  a  box -like,  red- 
wood building,  its  interior  lacking  the  imagery  and  col- 
oring of  the  Roman  congregation.  The  fat  angels  of 
Brother  Michel,  the  cherubim  and  seraphim  in  plaster 
on  the  facade  of  Father  David's  structure  were  typical 
of  the  genius  of  that  faith,  round,  smiling,  and  breath- 
ing good  will  to  the  faithful.  Protestantism  was  not  in 
accord  with  the  palms,  the  flowers,  and  the  brilliancy  of 
the  sunlight.  Thirty  made  up  the  congregation,  of 
whom  fourteen  were  men,  twelve  women,  and  four  chil- 
dren, though  the  benches  would  seat  a  hundred.  The 
women,  as  in  the  Catholic  church,  wore  hats,  but  I  was 
the  only  person  shod. 

Men  and  women  sat  apart.  During  the  service,  ex- 
cept when  they  sang,  no  man  paid  any  attention  to  the 
preacher,  nor  did  but  three  or  four  of  the  men.  They 
seemed  to  have  no  piety.  The  women  with  children 
walked  in  and  out,  and  four  dogs  coursed  up  and  down 
the  aisle.     No  one  stirred  a  hand  or  tongue  at  them. 

Fariura,  a  Tahitian  preacher,  who  replaced  Vernier, 
was  a  devout  figure  in  blackest  alpaca  suit  and  silk  tie, 
but  barefooted.  As  he  stood  on  a  platform  by  a  deal 
table  and  read  the  Bible,  I  saw  his  toes  were  well  spread, 
which  in  this  country  was  like  the  horny  hand  of  the 


428  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

laborer,  proof  of  industry.     Climbing  the  cocoanut- 
trees  made  one's  toes  ape  one's  fingers  in  radiation. 

Tevao  Kekela  led  the  singing  in  a  high-pitched  cop- 
pery voice,  and  those  who  sang  with  her  had  much  the 
same  intonation  and  manner.  Often  the  sound  was  like 
that  of  n  Tyrolean  yodel,  and  the  lingering  on  the  last 
note  was  fantastic.  They  sang  without  animation, 
rapidly,  and  as  if  repeating  a  lesson.  In  the  Catholic 
church  the  natives  were  assisted  by  the  nuns.  These 
words  were,  of  course,  Marquesan,  and  I  copied  down 
a  stanza  or  two: 

Haere  noara  ta  matorae 

Va  nia  i  te  ea  tiare, 

Eare  te  pure  tei  rave, 

Hiamai,  na  roto  i  te, 

Taehae  ote  merie? 

O  te  momona  rahi 

O  te  paraue  otou,  ta  mata  noaraoe? 

Momona  rahi  roa 

O  te  reira  eiti  to  te  merle? 

Parau  mai  nei  letue 

Etimona  Peteroe  tia  mai  nioe, 

Haa  noara  vau  i  tei  nei  po 

Areva  tuai  aue. 

Fariura  prayed  melodiously  and  pleadingly  for  ten 
minutes,  during  which  Tevao  Kekela's  father  never 
raised  his  head  but  remained  bowed  in  meditation.  A 
tattooed  man  in  front  of  me  bent  double  and  groaned 
constantly  during  the  invocation.  The  others  were  oc- 
cupied with  their  thoughts.  •' 

Then  said  Fariura,  "Ma  teinoa  o  letu-Kirito,  Metia 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  429 

kaoha  nui  ia,  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  a  good  day 
to  all  the  world." 

He  began  his  hour's  sermon.  The  discourse  was 
about  Rukifero  and  his  fall  from  Aki,  and  I  discovered 
that  Rukifero  was  Lucifer  and  Aki  was  paradise.  He 
described  the  fight  preceding  the  drop  as  much  like  one 
of  the  old  Marquesan  battles,  with  bitter  recriminations, 
spears,  clubs,  and  slings  as  weapons,  and  Jehovah  nar- 
rowly escaping  Gohath's  fate.  In  fact,  the  preacher 
said  He  had  to  dodge  a  particularly  well-aimed  stone. 
Fariura,  Kekela,  Terii,  the  catechist,  and  his  wife,  Toua, 
received  communion,  with  fervent  faces,  while  the  others 
departed,  lighting  cigarettes  on  the  steps,  some  mount- 
ing horses,  and  the  women  fording  the  river  with  their 
gowns  rolled  about  their  foreheads. 

The  preacher  shook  hands  with  me,  the  only  white. 
He  was  in  a  lather  from  the  iteat  and  his  unusual  clothes, 
and  the  rills  of  sweat  coursed  down  his  body.  His  pan- 
tomime of  the  heavenly  faction  fight  had  been  energetic. 
I  took  him  to  my  house  for  a  swig  of  rum,  and  we  had 
a  long  chat  on  the  activities  of  the  demon,  and  ways  of 
circumventing  his  wiles. 

Men  like  Vernier  were  not  deceived  by  dry  ecclesias- 
ticism.  They  knew  how  little  the  natives  were  changed 
from  paganism,  and  how  cold  the  once  hot  blast  of 
evangelism  had  grown.  Religion  was  for  long  the 
strongest  tide  in  the  affairs  of  the  South  Seas  both  under 
the  heathen  and  the  Christian  revelation.  Government 
was  not  important  under  Marquesan  communism,  for 
government  is  mostly  concerned  with  enforcing  oppor- 
tunity for  acquisitive  and  ambitious  men  to  gain  and 


430  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

hold  wealth  and  power.  In  the  days  of  the  tapus  gods 
and  devils  made  sacred  laws  and  religious  rites.  The 
first  missionaries  in  the  Marquesas,  who  sailed  from 
Tahiti,  were  young  Englishmen,  earnest  and  confident, 
but  they  met  a  severe  rebuff.  They  relate  that  a  swarm 
of  women  and  girls  swam  out  to  their  vessel  and  boarded 
it. 

"They  had  nothing  on,"  says  the  chronicle,  "but  gir- 
dles of  green  ferns,  which  they  generously  fed  to  the 
goats  we  had  on  board,  who  seemed  to  them  very  strange 
beings.  The  goats,  deprived  for  long  of  fresh  food, 
completely  devastated  the  garments  of  the  savage  fe- 
males, and  when  we  had  provided  all  the  cloth  we  had 
to  cover  them,  we  had  to  drive  the  others  off  the  ship  for 
the  sake  of  decency." 

Harris,  one  of  the  English  missionaries,  ventured 
ashore,  and  the  next  morning  returned  in  terror,  declar- 
ing that  nothing  would  induce  him  to  remain  in  the  Mar- 
quesas. He  feared  for  his  soul.  He  said  that  despite 
his  protestations  and  prayers  the  girls  of  the  valley  had 
insisted  on  examining  hiva  throughout  the  night  hours 
to  see  if  he  was  like  other  humans,  and  that  he  had 
to  submit  to  excruciating  intimacies  of  a  "diabolical 
inspiration."  Crooks,  Harris's  partner,  dared  these 
and  other  dangers  and  remained  a  year.  Crooks  said 
that  in  Vaitahu,  the  valley  in  which  Vanquished  Often 
and  Seventh  Man  Who  Wallows  in  the  Mire  lived, 
there  were  deified  men,  called  ottLos,  who,  still  in  life, 
wielded  supernatural  power  over  death,  disease,  the  el- 
ements, and  the  harvests,  and  who  demanded  human 
sacrifices  to  appease  their  wrath.     Crooks  believed  in 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  481 

the  supremacy  of  Jehovah,  but,  Uke  all  his  cloth  then, 
did  not  doubt  diabolism  and  the  power  of  its  professors. 

For  half  a  century  American  and  English  centers  of 
evangelism  despatched  missionaries  to  the  Marquesas, 
but  all  failed.  The  tapus  were  too  much  feared  by  the 
natives,  and  the  sorcerers  and  chiefs  held  this  power  un- 
til the  sailors  and  traders  gradually  broke  it.  They  sold 
guns  to  the  chiefs,  and  bought  or  stole  the  stone  and 
wooden  gods  to  sell  to  museums  and  collectors.  They 
ridiculed  the  temples  and  the  tapus,  consorted  with  the 
women,  and  induced  them  for  love  or  trinkets  to  sin 
against  their  code,  and  they  corrupted  the  sorcerers  with 
rum  and  gauds.  They  prepared  the  ground  for  the 
Christian  plow,  but  it  was  not  until  Hawaiian  mis- 
sionaries took  the  field  that  the  harvest  was  reaped. 
Then  it  was  because  of  a  man  of  great  and  loving  soul, 
a  man  I  had  known,  and  whose  descendants  I  met 
here. 

I  was  picking  my  way  along  the  bank  of  a  stream 
when  a  deep  and  ample  pool  lured  me  to  bathe  in  it. 
I  threw  off  my  pareu  and  was  splashing  in  the  deli- 
ciously  cool  water  when  I  heard  a  song  I  had  last  heard 
in  a  vaudeville  theater  in  America.  It  was  about  a 
newly-wedded  pair,  and  the  refrain  declared  that  "all 
night  long  he  called  her  Snookyookums."  The  voice 
was  masculine,  soft,  and  with  the  familiar  intonation  of 
the  Hawaiian  educated  in  American  Enghsh.  I  swam 
further  and  saw  a  big  brown  youth,  in  face  and  figure 
the  counterpart  of  Kamehaemeha  I,  the  first  king  of 
Hawaii,  whose  gold  and  bronze  statue  stands  in  Hono- 
lulu.   He  was  washing  a  shirt,  and  singing  in  fair  tune. 


432  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"Where's  your  Snookyookums?"  I  asked  by  way 
of  introduction. 

He  was  not  surprised.  Probably  he  heard  and  saw 
me  before  I  did  him. 

"Back  on  Alakea  Street  in  Honolulu,"  he  replied, 
smilingly,  "where  I  wish  I  was.  You  're  the  per  of  eta 
[prophet]  they  talk  about.  I  been  makin'  copra  or  I'd 
been  see  you  before.  My  name  is  Jimmy  Kekela,  and 
I  was  born  here  in  that  house  up  on  the  bank,  but  I  was 
sent  to  school  in  Honolulu,  and  I  played  on  the  Kame- 
hameha  High  scrub  team.  The  only  foot-ball  I  play 
now  is  with  a  cocoanut.  I  had  a  job  as  chauffeur  for 
Bob  Shingle,  who  married  a  sister  of  the  Princess  Ka- 
wananakoa,  but  my  father  wrote  me  to  come  back  here. 
I'll  wring  out  this  shirt,  and  we'll  go  up  and  see  my 
folks." 

The  Kekela  home  was  a  large,  bare  house  of  pine 
planks  from  California  raised  a  dozen  feet  on  a  stone 
paepae.  Unsightly  and  unsuitable,  it  was  character- 
istic of  the  architecture  the  white  had  given  the  Marque- 
san  for  his  own  graceful  and  beautiful  houses  of  hard 
wood,  bamboo,  and  thatch,  of  which  few  were  left.  I 
wrung  out  my  pareu,  replaced  it,  and  scrambled  up  the 
bank  with  him.  The  house  was  in  a  cocoanut  forest, 
the  trees  huge  and  lofty,  some  growing  at  an  amazing 
angle  owing  to  the  wind  shaping  them  when  young. 
They  twisted  like  snakes,  and  some  so  approached  par- 
allelism that  a  barefooted  native  could  walk  up  them 
without  using  his  hands,  by  the  mere  prehensility  of  his 
toes  and  his  accustomed  skill.  In  front  of  the  steps  to 
the  veranda  of  the  home  were  mats  for  the  drying  of 
the  copra,  and  a  middle-aged  man,  very  brown  and 


Tahiatini,  Many  Daughters,  the  little  leper  lass 


Frangois  G  relet,  the  Swiss,  of  Oomoa 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  433 

stout,  was  turning  over  the  halves  of  the  cocoanut  meat 
to  sun  them  all  over. 

"My  father,"  said  Jimmy  to  me,  and  ''Per  of  eta**  to 
him.  He  shook  hands  gingerly  in  the  way  all  people 
do  who  are  unaccustomed  to  that  greeting,  and  said, 
"Kaohar  My  answer,  ''Aloha  nui  oeT  surprised  him, 
for  it  was  the  Hawaiian  salute.  On  the  veranda  I  was 
presented  to  the  entire  Kekela  family,  four  generations. 
■By  ones  and  twos  they  drifted  from  the  room  or  the 
grounds.  Hannah,  the  widow  of  Habuku,  was  very 
old,  but  was  eager  to  talk. 

"I  am  a  Hawaiian,"  she  said  in  that  language,  "and 
I  have  been  in  Atuona,  on  this  piece  of  land,  sixty  years. 
My  husband  brought  me  here,  and  he  was  pastor  in  that 
church  till  he  died.  Auwe!  What  things  went  on  here 
then!  I  have  seen  many  men  being  carried  by  toward 
the  Pekia,  the  High  Place  of  Atuona,  for  roasting  and 
eating.  That  was  in  war  time,  when  they  fought  with 
the  people  of  Taaoa,  or  other  valley.  Kekela  and  my 
husband  with  the  help  of  God  stopped  that  evil  thing. 
Matanui,  a  chief,  came  to  Hawaii  in  a  whale-ship,  and 
asked  for  people  to  teach  his  people  the  word  of  the  true 
God.  Four  Hawaiians  listened  to  Matanui,  and  re- 
turned with  him  to  Hanavave,  where  the  French  priest 
Father  Olivier,  is  now.  A  week  later  a  French  ship 
arrived  with  a  Catholic  priest.  Auwe!  He  was  angry 
to  find  the  Protestants  and  tried  to  drive  them  out. 
They  stayed  with  the  help  of  the  Lord,  though  they  had 
a  hard  time.  Then  Kekela  and  we  came,  and  we  have 
seen  many  changes.  He  was  a  warrior,  and  not  afraid 
of  anything,  even  the  devil.  There  are  his  sons,  lami 
and  Tamueli,  and  his  grandsons  and  granddaughters 


434  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

and  their  children.  We  are  Hawaiian.  We  have  no 
drop  of  Marquesan  blood  in  us.  Did  you  know  Aber- 
ahama  Linoconi?" 

Hannah  Hfted  herself  from  the  mat  on  the  floor,  and 
brought  from  the  house  a  large  gold  watch,  very  heavy 
and  ornate,  of  the  sort  successful  men  bought  fifty  j^ears 
ago.  It  was  inscribed  to  James  Kekela  from  Abraham 
Lincoln  in  token  of  his  bravery  and  kindness  in  saving 
the  life  of  an  American  seaman,  and  the  date  was  1864. 

"That  watch,"  she  said,  "was  given  to  Kekela  by  the 
big  chief  of  America.  When  he  died  he  gave  it  to  his 
son,  Tamueli.  Tell  the  prophet  why  Aberahama  Lino- 
coni gave  it  to  your  grandfather,  lami !" 

Jimmy,  the  former  chauffeur,  tried  to  persuade  his 
uncle,  Samuel,  a  missionary  on  another  island,  to  tell 
the  story,  but  finally  himself  narrated  it  in  English. 

"Grandfather  Kekela  was  at  Puamau,  across  this  is- 
land, when  he  got  this  watch.  He  had  been  at  Puamau 
some  years  and  teachin'  people  stop  fightin'  an'  go 
church,  when  a  whale-ship  come  in  from  Peru,  an'  shot 
up  the  town.  The  Peru  men  killed  a  lot  of  Marque- 
sans,  and  stole  plenty  of  them  to  work  in  the  mines  like 
slave.  They  had  guns  an'  the  poor  Puamau  native  only 
spear  and  club,  so  that  got  away  with  it  good  an'  strong. 
Well,  nex'  year  come  American  whale-ship,  an'  the  mate 
come  up  the  valley  to  ketch  girl.  He  saw  girl  he  love 
an'  chase  her  up  the  valley.  The  Puamau  people  let 
him  go,  an'  ask  him  go  further.  Then  they  tie  him  up 
and  beat  him  like  the  Peru  people  beat  them,  and  then 
they  got  the  oven  ready  to  cook  him.  The  chief  of  Pua- 
mau come  tell  my  grandfather  what  they  goin'  do,  an* 
he  was  some  sore.    He  put  on  his  Sunday  clothes  he 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  435 

bring  from  Hawaii,  an*  high  collar  an'  white  necktie, 
an*  he  go  start  something.  He  was  yomig  and  not 
afraid  of  all  hell.  The  mate  was  tied  in  a  straw  house, 
an'  everybody  'roun'  was  getting  paralyzed  with  namu 
enata — you  know  that  cocoanut  booze  that  is  rougher 
than  sandpaper  gin  in  Hawaii. 

"They  were  scarin'  the  mate  almost  to  death  when 
grandfather  come  along.  The  mate  could  see  the  umu 
heatin'  up,  and  the  stones  bein'  turned  over  on  which 
he  was  goin'  to  be  cooked.  Grandfather  went  in  the 
hut.  The  mate  was  lyin'  on  his  back  with  his  hands  an' 
feet  tied  with  a  purau  rope,  an'  his  face  was  as  white 
as  a  shirt.  I  remember  grandfather  used  to  say  how 
white  his  face  was.  Kekela  knelt  down  an'  prayed  for 
the  mate,  an'  he  prayed  that  the  chief  would  give  him 
his  life.  He  prayed  an'  prayed,  and  the  chief  listen  an' 
say  nothin'.  'Long  toward  mornin'  the  chief  could  n't 
hold  out  no  longer,  an'  said  if  grandfather  would  give 
him  the  whale-boat  he  brought  from  Hawaii,  his  gun, 
an'  his  black  coat,  he  would  let  him  go.  Grandfather 
handed  them  all  over,  an'  took  the  mate  to  our  house, 
and  cured  his  wounds,  and  finally  got  him  on  a  boat  an' 
away.  It  was  no  cinch,  for  the  American  ship  had 
sailed  away,  and  he  had  to  keep  the  mate  till  another 
ship  came.  Many  time  the  young  men  of  Puamau  tried 
to  get  the  mate,  to  eat  him,  an'  when  another  ship  ar- 
rived, an'  Kekela  put  the  mate  on  board,  they  followed 
in  their  canoes  to  grab  him.  They  pretty  near  were 
killin'  grandfather  for  what  he  did. 

"The  mate  must  have  told  the  Pres'ent  of  United 
States  about  his  trouble  here,  for  grandfather  got  a  bag 
of  money,  this  watch,  a  new  whaleboat,  an'  a  fine  black 


436  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

coat  brought  him  by  an  American  ship  with  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Lincohi.  Father  wrote  back  to  Pres'ent  Lin- 
coln in  Hawaiian,  an'  thank  him  proper." 

"He  must  have  lived  to  be  a  very  old  man,"  I  said, 
"because  I  was  in  Kawaidhao  Church  in  Honolulu  when 
he  preached.  He  was  asking  for  money  for  this  church, 
and  he  took  out  the  watch  Lincoln  gave  him,  and  banged 
it  on  the  pupit  so  that  we  thought  he  would  break  it. 
He  was  greatly  excited.  I  wrote  a  piece  about  his  ser- 
mon in  the  Honolulu  paper  and  it  was  printed  in  the 
Nupepa  Kuhoa,  the  Hawaiian  edition  of  the  Hono- 
lulu Advertiser." 

Samuel  Kekela  leaped  to  his  feet  and  rushed  into 
the  house,  from  which  he  came  with  a  yellowed  copy  of 
the  Nupepa  Kukoa,  containing  the  article,  with  Ke- 
kela's  picture.  To  my  own  astonishment  I  read  that 
the  fourteen  Hawaiians  of  the  Kekela  families  who  had 
accompanied  the  aged  pioneer  to  Honolulu  had  jour- 
neyed in  a  schooner  captained  by  my  own  shipmate, 
Lying  Bill.  I  had  seen  the  schooner  in  Honolulu  Har- 
bor. 

Here  was  a  remarkable  group,  a  separate  and  alien 
sept,  which,  though  living  since  before  Lincoln's  Presi- 
dency in  this  wild  archipelago,  had  preserved  their  Ha- 
waiian inheritances  and  customs  almost  intact.  This 
had  been  due  to  the  initial  impetus  given  them  by  their 
ancestor,  and  it  had  now  ceased  to  animate  them,  so  that 
they  were  declining  into  commonplace  and  dull  copra 
makers,  with  but  a  tiny  spark  of  the  flame  of  piety  that 
had  lighted  the  soul  of  their  progenitor. 

"I  am  not  the  man  my  father  was,"  said  John,  the 
father  of  Jimmy.     "I  am  an  American  because  I  am  a 


ATOLLS  OF  TitE  SUN  487 

Hawaiian  citizen.     My  father  had  us  all  sent  to  Ha- 
waii to  be  educated  and  to  marry." 

The  old  Kekela  had  been  a  patriarch  in  Israel.  Not 
alone  had  he  lessened  cannibalism  and  the  rigidity  of 
the  tapu  in  the  "great,  cannibal  isle  of  Hiva-Oa,"  but 
he  had  instructed  them  in  foreign  ways.  He  had  ac- 
quired lands,  and  now  this  family  was  the  richest  in  the 
Marquesas.  Only  the  Cathohc  mission  owned  more 
acres.  They  were  proud,  and  convinced  that  they  were 
anointed  of  the  Lord,  though  Jimmy,  being  young,  had 
no  interest  at  all  in  rehgion.  If  Kekela  the  first  had 
not  been  a  missionary  he  would  have  been  a  chief  or  a 
capitalist.  Hannah  showed  me  the  photographs  of  the 
kings  and  queen  of  Hawaii  since  Kamehameha  IV  with 
their  signatures  and  affectionate  words  for  Kekela. 
Now  they  were  disintegrating,  and  another  generation 
would  find  them  as  undone  as  the  Marquesans.  The 
contempt  of  government,  trader,  and  casual  white  for 
all  religion  had  affected  them,  who  for  two  generations 
had  been  Christian  aristocrats  and  leaders  among  a  mass 
of  commoners  and  admiring  followers.  The  ten  com- 
mandments were  as  dead  as  the  tapus,  and  the  church 
had  become  here  what  it  is  in  America,  a  social  and  en- 
tertainment focus  for  people  bored  by  life.  The  Ger- 
man philosopher  has  said  that  the  apparent  problem  of 
all  religions  was  to  combat  a  certain  weariness  produced 
by  various  causes  which  are  epidemic.  Christianity  for 
civilized  people  may  be  "a  great  storehouse  of  ingenuous 
sedatives,  with  which  deep  depression,  leaden  languor, 
and  sullen  sadness  of  the  physiologically  depressed 
might  be  relieved,"  but  for  the  Marquesans  it  had  been 
a  narcotic,  perhaps  easing  them  into  the  grave  dug  by 


438  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  new  dispensation  brought  by  civilized  outsiders. 
The  gentle  Jesus  had  been  betrayed  by  the  culture  that 
had  developed  in  his  name,  but  which  had  no  relation 
to  his  teaching  or  example.  These  good-willed  Keke- 
las  were  as  feeble  to  arrest  the  decay  of  soul  and  body 
of  their  charges  as  was  the  excellent  Pastor  Vernier  or 
the  self-sacrificing  Father  David.  In  the  dance  at  the 
governor's  the  flocks,  at  least,  had  an  expression,  cor- 
rupted as  it  was,  of  their  desire  for  pleasure  and  for- 
getfulness  of  the  stupid  present. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Paul  Gauguin,  the  famous  French-Peruvian  artist — a  rebel  against 
the  society  that  rejected  him  while  he  lived,  and  now  cherishes  liis 
paintings. 

ABOVE  the  village  of  Atuona  was  the  hill  of  Cal- 
vary, as  the  French  named  the  Catholic  ceme- 
tery. Often  in  the  late  afternoon  I  went  there 
to  watch  the  sun  go  down  behind  the  peak  of  Temetiu, 
and  to  muse  over  what  might  come  into  my  mind.  My 
first  visit  had  been  with  Charles  Le  Moine,  the  school 
teacher  of  Vaitahu,  and  the  only  painter  living  in  the 
Marquesas.  We  had  gone  to  search  for  the  grave  of 
Paul  Gauguin,  the  famous  French-Peruvian  artist,  and 
had  found  no  trace  of  it. 

"That  woman  who  swore  to  keep  it  right  has  buried 
another  lover  since,"  said  Le  Moine,  cynically. 

A  small  man,  with  a  long  French  nose,  a  red,  pointed 
beard  and  mustache,  twinkling  blue  eyes,  and  dressed 
in  faded  denim,  Le  Moine,  though  many  years  in  these 
archipelagos,  was  out  of  the  Latin  Quarter.  Two  front 
teeth  missing,  he  had  a  childish  air;  one  thought  his 
whiskers  might  be  a  boy's  joke.  He  was  a  blageur 
about  life,  but  he  was  very  serious  about  painting,  and 
utterly  without  thought  of  else. 

"I  work  at  anything  the  Government  will  give  me 
to  earn  leisure  and  a  bare  living  so  as  to  paint  here," 
he  said. 

Alas  I     Le  Moine  was  not  a  great  artist.     His  pic- 

439 


440  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

tures  were  so-so.  Doubtless  the  example  and  fame  of 
Gauguin  inspired  him  to  achieve.  We  had  often  talked 
of  him. 

"When  he  died,"  said  Le  Moine,  "I  was  here,  and  I 
attended  the  night  services  in  the  church  over  his  re- 
mains. The  chief  gendarme  or  agent  special,  like 
Bauda  now,  took  charge  of  his  house  and  effects.  You 
may  imagine  the  care  he  took  when  I  tell  you  that  Gau- 
guin was  under  sentence  to  prison  for  reviling  the  gen- 
darme and  the  law.  He  auctioned  off  everything  with 
a  jest,  and  made  fun  of  the  dead  man  and  his  work. 
He  said  to  us:  'Gauguin  is  dead.  He  leaves  many 
debts,  and  nothing  here  to  pay  for  them,  but  a  few  paint- 
ings without  value.  He  was  a  decadent  painter.* 
Gauguin  would  have  expected  that.  I  had  only  a  few 
sous,  but  was  able  to  buy  what  I  needed  most,  his 
brushes  and  palette.  Peyral  got  'Niagara  Falls,*  as  the 
gendarme  shouted  its  name.  It  was  Gauguin's  last  pic- 
ture; a  Brittany  village  in  winter,  snow  everywhere,  a 
few  houses  and  trees,  and  the  dusk  in  blue  and  red  and 
violet  tones.  He  made  that,  mon  ami,  when  he  was  dy- 
ing. It  was  his  reaching  back  to  his  old  painting 
ground  in  his  last  thoughts.  I  think  Peyral  sold  it  to 
Polonsky,  the  Tahitian  banker,  who  was  here  looking 
to  buy  anything  of  Gauguin.  Lutz  got  his  cane,  carved 
by  Gauguin,  and  the  other  things  went  for  a  trifle,  in- 
cluding the  house,  which  was  torn  down  for  the  lumber, 
because  nobody  here  wanted  a  studio.  I  admired  Gau- 
guin, but  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  me  because  I  was 
white  and  of  the  Government.  He  was  absorbed  with 
the  Marquesans,  and  to  them  he  was  all  kindness  and 
generosity.    He  was  the  simplest  educated  white  man  in 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  441 

his  needs  I  have  ever  known,  and  I  myself,  as  you  know, 
have  few  demands.  Gauguin  wanted  drink,  paint  and 
canvas.  He  always  kept  a  bottle  of  absinthe  in  a  little 
pool  by  his  house." 

Lying  Bill  had  said  that  Gauguin  was  a  seaman. 

"  'Is  'ands  was  as  tough  an'  rough  as  mine,"  said  Cap- 
tain Pincher.  "  'E  'd  been  to  sea  on  merchant  ships  an' 
in  the  French  navy.  Gauguin  was  no  bloomin'  pimp 
like  most  artists.  'E  knew  every  rope  in  the  schooner, 
an'  could  reef  an'  steer.  'E  looked  like  a  Spaniard,  an' 
'e  could  drink  like  a  Yarmouth  bloater.  Many  a  time 
I  brought  'im  absinthe  to  Atuona  on  my  ship.  But  'e 
was  a  'ard  worker.  I  used  to  sit  with  'im  sometimes 
when  'e  'd  play  'is  organ.  'E  wasn't  bad  at  it,  either. 
Women  did  n't  care  much  for  'im.  'E  never  made 
much  of  them,  but  'e  *ad  plenty.  A  bleedin'  queer  frog, 
*e  was." 

"He  was  a  chic  type"  said  Song  of  the  Nightingale, 
the  prisoner-cook  of  the  palace.  Song  said  chick  tip- 
pee,  but  he  meant  that  Gauguin  was  a  good  man  to 
know.  "When  there  was  a  big  storm  here,  and  all  the 
land  of  the  man  next  to  him  was  washed  away  by  the 
river,  Gauguin  gave  him  a  piece.  Ea!  He  gave  him, 
too,  a  paper  which  made  the  land  his.  The  family  has 
it  to-day,  and  they  are  my  relatives." 

Pastor  Vernier,  Father  David,  Peyral,  Flag,  Song 
of  the  Nightingale,  and  others  had  spoken  of  Gauguin, 
but  his  name  never  came  to  their  lips  spontaneously. 
Being  dead  ten  years,  he  was  as  never  having  been,  to 
the  Marquesans.  To  Vernier  his  note  was  of  small  in- 
terest and  to  the  vicar  apostolic  an  annoyance.  In  these 
seas  when  a  man  was  dead  he  was  forgotten  ui)less  he 


442  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

had  left  an  estate,  or  his  ghost  walked.  The  Marque- 
san  and  the  Paumotuan  held  the  dead  in  great  fear  at 
times,  but  not  in  reverence.  The  spirit  of  the  artist  had 
remained  with  his  body,  and  that  was  lost  in  the  matted 
earth  of  the  graveyard  on  the  height.  His  dust  had 
long  ago  united  with  the  cocoanut-palms  that  rose  from 
his  burial-place  on  that  lonely  hill.  The  purple  blos- 
soms of  the  pahue  vine,  which  crawled  over  his  un- 
marked grave  and  sent  its  shoots  to  search  the  heart  of 
the  unhappiest  of  men,  were  the  only  tribute  ever  laid 
there.  The  woman  who  had  vowed  to  keep  its  formal 
outline  unbroken  and  to  bedew  it  with  her  tears  smiled 
at  my  recalling  it.  Gauguin  here  was  a  name's  faint 
echo,  but  in  America  and  Europe  they  bartered  for 
Gauguin's  pictures  as  if  they  were  of  gold,  schools  of 
imitators  and  emulators  were  active,  and  novelists  and 
critics  seized  upon  his  utterances  and  deeds,  his  savage 
ways  and  maddening  canvases,  to  fit  fictional  characters 
to  them,  or  to  tell  over  and  over  again  the  mystifying 
story  of  his  career  and  his  work.  Here,  among  the  fas- 
cinating scenes  nature  fashions  for  those  who  love  its 
extravagances,  he  died  in  poverty.  More  is  paid  to-day 
for  one  of  his  pictures  than  he  earned  in  a  lifetime. 

The  man  Gauguin  persisted  as  a  legend  wherever 
painting  or  Polynesia  was  much  discussed.  There  was 
in  him  a  seed  of  anarchism,  a  harking  back  to  the  abso- 
lute freedom  of  the  individual,  a  fierce  hatred  of  the 
overlordship  of  money  and  fixed  decency,  of  comme  il 
faut,  which  lightened  the  eye  of  many  conforming  peo- 
ple, as  a  glimpse  of  light  through  a  distant  door  in  a 
dark  tunnel.  In  this  stark,  brooding,  wounded  insur- 
recto,  this  child  of  France  and  the  ardent  tropic  of 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  443 

South  America,  each  of  us  who  had  suffered,  and  re- 
belled, if  only  in  our  hearts,  gained  a  vicarious  expres- 
sion, and  an  outlet  for  our  atavistic  and  fearful  desires. 
Time  that  had  led  man  from  the  anthropoid  to  the  ar- 
tist had  betrayed  Gauguin.  He  had  yielded  to  the  im- 
pulse we  all  feel  at  times,  and  had  tried  to  escape  from 
the  cage  formed  by  heredity,  habits,  and  the  thoughts 
of  his  countrymen.  Space  he  had  conquered,  and  in 
these  wilds  was  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  civiUzation,  but 
time  he  could  not  blot  out,  for  he  was  of  his  age,  and  even 
its  leader  in  the  evolution  of  painting.  The  savage  in 
man  he  let  take  control  of  himself,  or  willed  it  to  be,  and 
was  spoiled  by  the  inexorable  grasp  upon  him  of  his 
forebears  and  his  decades  of  Europe.  He  was  satur- 
ated with  the  ennui  of  the  West.  He  wanted  to  be 
primitive,  and  had  to  use  morphine,  absinthe,  and  or- 
gan music  to  remain  in  the  East.  He  asserted  that 
he  wanted  to  be  "wise  and  a  barbarian."  He  was  a 
great  artist  but  no  barbarian. 

He  wrote:  "Civilization  is  falling  from  me  little 
by  little.  Under  the  continual  contact  with  pebbles  my 
feet  have  become  hardened  and  used  to  the  ground. 
My  body,  almost  constantly  nude,  no  longer  suffers 
from  the  sun.  I  am  beginning  to  think  simply,  to  feel 
very  little  hatred  for  my  neighbor — rather,  to  love  him. 
All  the  joys,  animal  and  human,  are  mine.  I  have  es- 
caped everything  that  is  artificial,  conventional,  cus- 
tomary. I  am  entering  into  the  truth,  into  nature.  In 
the  certitude  of  a  succession  of  days  like  this  present 
one,  equally  free  and  beautiful,  peace  descends  on  me." 

He  never  knew  peace.  His  was  a  tortured  soul  and 
body,  torn  by  conflicting  desires,  and  absence  of  the 


444  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

fame  and  slight  fortune  he  craved.  He  had  courage 
and  stoicism.  In  scores  of  letters  to  his  friend  Mont- 
fried  he  complained  of  his  fate,  of  his  desperate  poverty, 
his  lack  of  painting  materials,  the  bourgeois  whites 
about  him,  and  his  lack  of  recognition  in  Europe.  He 
wanted  to  return  there,  and  Mont  fried  had  to  tell  him 
in  plain  terms  that  he  would  destroy  by  his  presence  in 
Paris  any  sale  there  was  for  his  pictures.  Gauguin 
realized  that,  for  it  carried  out  his  own  motto,  one  that 
he  had  put  over  his  door:  "Be  mysterious  and  you 
will  be  happy  I" 

Gauguin  was  like  all  cultivated  whites  who  go  to  the 
South  Seas  after  manhood,  like  me,  unfitted  by  the  poi- 
sons of  civilization  to  survive  in  a  simple,  semi-savage 
environment.  We  demand  the  toxins  of  our  machine 
bringing-up  and  racial  ideals,  as  the  addict  his  drug. 
Gauguin  was  already  forty-three  when  he  stepped 
ashore  at  Tahiti,  and  fifty-three  when  he  came  to  the 
Marquesas,  but  at  least  he  had  put  into  a  proper  milieu 
his  portrait  of  himself  made  when  he  said  to  his  oppo- 
nents, in  Paris :  "I  am  a  savage.  Every  human  work  is 
a  revelation  of  the  individual.  All  I  have  learned  from 
others  has  been  an  impediment  to  me.  I  know  little, 
but  what  I  do  know  is  my  own." 

Paul  Gauguin  was  dead  at  fifty-five.  An  ancestor 
was  a  centenarian.  The  family  was  famed  in  its  envi- 
ronment for  its  vitality,  but  Paul  wasted  his  energy 
in  bitter  blows  against  the  steel  shield  of  society,  and 
spoiled  his  body  with  the  vices  of  both  savage  and  civi- 
lized. 

"He  was  smiling  when  I  saw  him  dead,"  said  Mouth 
of  God,  who  had  served  him  for  the  love  of  him. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  445 

That  smile  was  his  ever-brave  defiance  of  life,  but, 
too,  a  thought  for  France — for  the  France  he  adored, 
and  which  he  dreamed  of  so  often  though  it  had  rejected 
him.  That  last  picture,  painted  in  these  humid  Mar- 
quesas in  his  house  set  in  a  grove  of  cocoanut-palms  and 
breadfruit-trees,  was  of  Brittany  and  was  a  snow  scene. 
He  did  not  defeat  his  enemy,  but  sank  into  his  last  sleep 
content  to  go  because  the  struggle  had  become  too  an- 
guishing. He  knew  he  was  beaten,  but  he  flew  no  flag  of 
surrender.  He  passed  alone,  with  only  the  smile  as  a 
token  of  his  final  moment  of  consciousness,  and  the  emo- 
tion that  stirred  his  soul. 

As  was  said  best  by  his  friend  and  biographer,  Charles 
Morice,  Gauguin  was  one  of  the  most  necessary  artists 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  His  name  now  signified  a 
distinctive  conception  of  the  nature  of  art,  a  certain 
spirit  of  creation  and  mastery  of  strange  technique,  and 
a  revolt  against  established  standards  and  methods 
which  constituted  an  opposition  to  the  accepted  thoughts 
and  morals  of  art — if  not  a  school,  at  least  a  distinct 
class  of  graphic  achievement.  As  the  French  say,  it 
was  a  categorie.  For  the  conservatives,  the  regular 
painters  and  critics,  he  had  created  un  frisson  nouveau, 
a  new  shudder  in  art,  as  Hugo  said  Baudelaire  had  in 
literature. 

Gauguin  was  not  a  distinguished  writer.  "Noa  Noa" 
was  written  by  his  friend,  Morice,  in  Paris,  from  letters 
to  him.  The  painter  commented  upon  the  book  that  it 
was  "not  the  result  of  an  ordinary  collaboration,  that  is, 
of  two  authors  working  in  common,  but  that  I  had  the 
idea,  speaking  for  non-civilized  people,  to  contrast  their 
characters  with  ours,  and  I  had  enough  originality  to 


446  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

write  it  simply,  just  like  a  savage,  and  to  ask  Morice,  for 
his  part,  to  put  it  in  civilized  words."  His  "Intimate 
Journals"  are  actually  revelatory  of  the  man,  but  "Noa 
Noa"  is  a  tropical  dish  seasoned  with  sophistries,  though 
beautiful,  and,  to  a  large  degree,  true.  It  is  a  poetical 
interpretation  by  Morice,  a  Parisian,  of  Gauguin's  ad- 
ventures in  Tahiti. 

Gauguin  spent  little  time  in  writing.  Every  fiber  of 
his  weakening  body  and  every  lucubration  of  his  mind 
were  bent  on  expressing  himself  in  painting,  or  in  clay 
or  wood,  but  he  thought  clearly  and  individualistically, 
and  wrote  forcefully  and  with  wit.  He  was  not  a 
poet,  nor  had  he  felicity  of  language. 

I  revived  Gauguin's  memory  in  the  South  Seas. 
Having  known  about  him  in  Tahiti,  I  was  interested  to 
find  out  all  I  could  of  his  brief  life  and  sorrowful  death 
here.  Lovaina,  the  best  known  woman  in  the  South 
Seas,  at  whose  Hotel  Tiare,  I  lived  in  Tahiti,  spoke  of 
Gauguin  one  day.  She  had  heard  a  whisper  between 
Temanu  and  Taata-Mata,  two  of  her  handmaids,  that  I 
might  leave  the  Tiare,  her  impossible  auherge  in  Pa- 
peete, to  lodge  with  Madame  Charbonnier  or  Madame 
I]anny. 

Lovaina,  three  quarters  American  by  blood,  but  all 
Tahitian  in  looks,  language,  and  heart,  was  not  assured 
that  her  impossible  hotel  was  the  only  possible  one 
within  thousands  of  miles,  as  it  was  really,  and  she  said : 

"Berina,  I  think  more  better  you  go  see  that  damn 
house  before  you  make  one  bargain.  You  know  what 
Gauguin  say.  He  have  room  with  Madame  Charbon- 
pier,  and  eve'y  day,  §ome  time  night,  she  come  make 


\ 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  447 

peep  his  place.  He  had  glass  door  between  that  room 
for  him  and  for  other  man,  and  he  say  one  day  to  me 
(I  drink  one  Pernod  with  him) : 

"  *That  Sdcre  French  women  she  make  peep  me.  I 
beelong  myself.     I  make  one  damn  pictu'e  stop  that.' 

"You  go  look  for  yourse'f  to-day.  You  see  that  door. 
Gauguin  say  he  make  ugly  so  nobody  make  look." 

"That  Gauguin  was  a  very  happy  man  in  my  maison*' 
said  Madame  Charbonnier  in  French  to  me.  "He  and 
I  had  but  one  disagreement.  One  day  a  native  woman 
accompanied  him  here.  I  knew  he  must  have  models, 
but  I  want  no  hussies  in  my  house.  I  am  a  respectable 
citizeness  of  France.  I  looked  through  the  glass  door, 
and  I  warned  him,  though  he  had  paid  in  advance,  I 
must  preserve  my  reputation.  O,  la  la  la!  He 
painted  that  mauvaise  picture  of  that  very  Tahitian  girl 
on  my  door  to  spite  me.  La  voila!  Is  it  not  affright- 
ing?" 

It  was  a  double-panelled  door,  and  a  separate  paint- 
ing covered  each;  to  the  left  a  seated  girl  wearing  a 
pareu  and  to  the  right  a  girl  playing  the  vivo,  the  Ta- 
hitian flute,  a  female  figure  standing,  and  the  white  rab- 
bit Gauguin  introduced  afterward  into  many  paintings. 
I  might  have  bought  the  door  of  Madame  Charbonnier 
or  somewhat  similar  windows  and  doors  in  another  house 
occupied  by  Gauguin  for  a  hundred  francs  or  perhaps 
two  or  three  times  that  much.  At  any  rate,  for  an  in- 
considerable sum,  because  they  had  no  value  as  ex- 
amples of  the  painter's  ability  nor  were  they  intrinsi- 
cally beautiful  or  attractive.  Stephen  Haweis,  a  tal- 
ented English  artist,  who  was  there  with  me,  bought  the 


448  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

door,  and  W.  Somerset  Maugham  a  window,  which  I 
saw  afterward  in  a  New  York  gallery  for  sale  at  some 
thousands  of  dollars. 

I  was  mentioning  Gauguin's  name  at  Mataiea,  in 
Tahiti,  at  the  house  of  the  chief  of  that  district,  Tetu- 
anui,  a  gentleman  of  charming  manners  and  great 
knowledge  of  things  Tahitian.  Rupert  Brooke  and  I 
had  walked  to  the  ancient  marai,  or  temple,  and  the 
poet  and  I  had  tried  to  rebuild  the  ruin  in  our  imagi- 
nation. I  had  seen  marais  better  preserved,  and  I  had 
talked  with  many  who  had  studied  their  formation  and 
history. 

This  one,  very  famous  in  the  annals  of  Tahiti,  was  not 
far  from  Tetuanui's  home,  and  on  it  had  been  enacted 
strange  and  bloody  sacrifices  in  the  days  of  heathenry. 
It  was  on  the  sea-shore,  and,  indeed,  much  of  it  had 
fallen  into  the  water,  or  the  surf  had  encroached  upon 
the  land.  We  had  spent  some  hours  about  it,  and  had 
wondered  about  the  people  who  had  made  it  their  cathe- 
dral a  few  score  years  ago.  Here  we  were  living  with 
their  grandchildren.  The  father  of  the  chief's  father 
might  have  participated  in  the  ceremonies  there,  might 
have  seen  the  king  accept  and  eat  the  eye  of  a  victim, 
or  feign  to  do  so,  for  cannibalism  had  long  passed  in 
Tahiti  even  a  century  ago. 

Walking  back  to  Mataiea,  we  met  the  chief  return- 
ing from  his  day's  labor  directing  the  repair  of 
roads,  for,  though  a  chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honor, 
a  former  warrior  for  the  French  against  tribes  of  other 
islands,  Tetuanui  had  small  means,  and  was  forced  to 
be  a  civil  servant  of  the  conquerers. 

"We  have  been  to  see  the  marai"  said  Brooke. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  449 

''Oia  mau  and  teie?"  replied  Tetuanui.  "Is  that  so? 
I  have  not  been  there  for  a  long  time.  The  last  time 
was  with  that  white  painter  Gauguin.  He  lived  near 
here,  and  one  day  I  spoke  of  the  marai,  and  he  asked 
me  to  show  it  to  him.  We  walked  down  there  together, 
but  he  was  disappointed  that  it  was  so  broken  down.'* 

Once  again  the  chevalier  gave  me  a  glimpse  of  the 
barbarian.  He  and  his  amiable  wife  took  occasional 
boarders,  and  there  were  two  San  Francisco  salesgirls 
there  for  a  week.  They  were  shocked  at  our  bathing 
nude  in  the  lagoon  in  front  of  the  house,  although  we 
wore  loin-cloths  to  walk  to  the  beach  and  back.  They 
complained  to  the  chief,  who  was  astonished,  for  Brooke 
was  strikingly  handsome,  and  the  Tahitian  girls  were 
open  in  their  praise  of  his  beauty. 

"They  should  have  seen  that  Gauguin,"  said  Tet- 
uanui, as  he  begged  our  pardon  for  telling  their  indig- 
nation. "He  was  always  semi-nude  and  often  nude. 
He  became  as  brown  as  a  Tahitian  in  a  few  months. 
He  liked  to  lie  in  the  sun,  and  I  have  seen  him  at  the 
hottest  part  of  the  day  sitting  at  his  easel.  You  know, 
he  had  a  wife  here  in  the  way  that  the  whites  take  our 
women,  and  one  day  he  and  she  were  in  swimming,  and 
came  out  on  the  road  before  putting  on  parens.  A  good 
missionary  complained  of  them — it  was  not  quite 
proper,  truly,  and  the  gendarme  warned  both  of  them. 
Gauguin  was  furious,  for  he  Jrated  the  gendarmes  before 
that." 

Ten  years  were  gone  since  Gauguin,  having  fled  from 
Tahiti  and  a  fate  that  he  could  not  escape,  had  expired 
here  in  Atuona  in  a  singular  though  anguished  resigna- 
tion.    His  atelier  and  dwelling  had  been  just  below 


450  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Peyral's  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road  I  trod  so  often 
to  and  from  the  beach,  and  Peyral  had  known  him  as 
well  as  such  a  man  can  know  a  master.  Mouth  of  God, 
the  husband  of  Mahcious  Gossip,  saw  Gauguin  dead 
in  his  house,  and  it  was  he  who  told  me  that  Kahuiti, 
the  recent  cannibal  chief,  had  a  tiki  made  by  Gauguin. 
I  went  to  Taaoa,  past  the  Stinking  Springs  and  the 
house  of  Mademoiselle  Narbonne,  to  see  it. 

I  remembered  that  James  Huneker  said,*'In  the  huts 
of  the  natives  where  cataloguing  ceases,  many  pictures 
may  be  found." 

Kahuiti  had  one,  and  dear  to  the  heart  of  that  re- 
markable anthropophagus.  It  was  a  striking  figure  of 
an  old  god,  and  a  couple  of  feet  square,  and  in  the 
painter's  most  characteristic  style. 

When  I  asked  him  to  sell  it  to  me,  he  opened  wide 
those  large  brown  eyes  which  had  looked  a  hundred 
times  at  the  advancing  spear,  and  had  watched  the 
cooking  of  his  slain  enemy.  He  said  nothing  but  the 
words,  ''Tiki  hoa  pii!    An  image  by  my  dear  friend!" 

I  smoked  a  pipe  with  him,  and  went  back  to  Atuona 
thoughtful. 

Gauguin  made  many  enemies,  but  he  kept  his  friends 
even  in  death. 

*'Touj(ywrs  tout  a  vous  de  coeur"  he  had  signed  his 
letters  to  his  one  or  two  friends,  with  rare  sincerity. 

Gauguin  had  deserted  Tahiti  because  of  his  frequent 
quarrels  with  the  representatives  of  the  Government 
there,  and  with  the  church.  He  precipitated  a  similar 
situation  in  Atuona  almost  immediately.  In  his  "In- 
timate Journals,"  he  tells  of  it: 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  451 

The  first  news  that  reached  me  on  my  arrival  at  Atuona  was 
that  there  was  no  land  to  be  bought  or  sold,  except  at  the  mis- 
sion. .  .  .  Even  so,  as  the  bishop  was  away,  I  should  have  to 
wait  a  month.  My  trunks  and  a  shipment  of  building  lumber 
waited  on  the  beach.  During  this  month,  as  you  can  well  imag- 
ine, I  went  to  mass  every  Sunday,  forced  as  I  was  to  play  the 
role  of  a  good  Catholic  and  a  railer  against  the  Protestants. 
My  reputation  was  made,  and  His  reverence,  without  suspecting 
my  hypocrisy,  was  quite  willing  (since  it  was  I)  to  sell  me  a 
small  plot  of  ground  filled  with  pebbles  and  underbrush  for  650 
francs.  I  set  to  work  courageously,  and,  thanks  once  more 
to  some  men  recommended  by  the  bishop,  I  was  soon  settled. 

Hypocrisy  has  its  good  points.  When  my  hut  was  finished, 
I  no  longer  thought  of  making  war  on  the  Protestant  pastor, 
who  was  a  well-brought-up  young  man  with  a  liberal  mind 
besides;  nor  did  I  think  any  longer  of  going  to  church.  A 
chicken  had  xome  along,  and  war  had  begun  again.  When  I 
say  a  chicken  I  am  modest,  for  all  the  chickens  had  arrived,  and 
without  any  invitation.  His  Reverence  is  a  regular  goat,  while 
I  am  a  tough  old  cock  and  fairly  well-seasoned.  If  I  said  the 
goat  began  it,  I  should  be  telling  the  truth.  To  want  to  con- 
demn me  to  a  vow  of  chastity!  That's  a  little  too  much; 
nothing  like  that,  Lizette ! 

To  cut  two  superb  pieces  of  rose-wood  and  carve  them  after 
the  Marquesan  fashion  was  child's  play  for  me.  One  of  them 
represented  a  homed  devil  (the  bishop),  the  other  a  charming 
woman  with  flowers  in  her  hair.  It  was  enough  to  name  her 
Ther^se  for  every  one  without  exception,  even  the  school-chil- 
dren, to  see  in  it  an  allusion  to  this  celebrated  love  affair. 
Even  if  this  is  all  a  myth,  still  it  was  not  I  who  started  it. 

Pastor  Vernier  told  me  of  his  acquaintance  with 
Gauguin  and  of  his  last  days.     Vernier  acknowledged 


452  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

that  he  had  never  been  his  friend.  I  would  have  known 
that,  for  to  Gauguin,  professors  of  theology  were  as  ab- 
surd and  abhorrent  as  he  to  them. 

Gauguin's  residence  was  a  half  mile  away  from  Ver- 
nier's. Two  years  he  had  lived  there  after  ten  in 
Tahiti.  Always  disappointment,  always  bodily  suffer- 
ing, and  the  reaction  from  alcohol  and  drugs ;  an  invalid 
a  dozen  years. 

"He  was  a  savage,  but  a  charming  man,"  said  Pastor 
Vernier  to  me.  "I  could  have  nothing  to  say  to  him, 
ordinarily,  and  he  did  not  seek  me  out.  He  had  no  re- 
spect for  the  law  and  less  for  the  bon  Dieu.  The  Cath- 
olics especially  he  quarreled  with,  for  he  made  a  cari- 
cature of  the  Bishop,  and  of  a  native  woman,  about 
whom  there  was  a  current  scandal.  It  was  common 
talk,  and  the  natives  laughed  uproariously,  which 
angered  the  bishop  greatly.  It  was  unfit  to  be  seen  by 
a  savage.     You  can  imagine  it ! 

"I  had  not  seen  him  for  some  time  when  I  had  a  note 
from  Gauguin,  scrawled  on  a  piece  of  wrapping-paper. 
It  said: 

"Will  it  be  asking  too  much  for  you  to  come  to  see  me? 
My  sight  is  all  of  a  sudden  leaving  me.  I  am  very  ill,  and  can- 
not move." 

"I  went  down  the  trail  to  his  house,  and  found  Mouth 
of  God  with  him,  as  also  the  old  Tioka.  His  legs  were 
terribly  ulcerated.  He  had  on  a  red  loin-cloth  and  a 
green  tam-o'-shanter  cap.  His  skin  was  as  red  as  fire 
from  the  eczema  he  had  long  been  afflicted  with,  and  the 
pain  must  have  been  very  severe.  He  shut  his  lips  tight 
at  moments,  but  he  did  not  groan.     He  talked  of  art  for 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  453 

an  hour  or  two,  passionately  advocating  his  ideas,  and 
without  reference  to  his  approaching  end.  I  think  he 
sent  for  me  for  conversation  and  no  more.  It  was  then 
he  presented  me  with  books  and  his  portrait  of  Mal- 
larme. 

"We  chatted  long  and  I  was  filled  with  admiration 
for  the  courage  of  Gauguin  and  his  prepossession  with 
painting,  at  the  expense  of  his  doleur.  About  a  fort- 
night later  I  went  back  when  Tioka  summoned  me,  and 
found  him  worse,  but  still  forgetful  of  everything  else 
but  his  art.  It  was  the  eighth  of  May  Tioka  came 
again.  Gauguin  now  was  in  agony.  He  had  had  pe- 
riods of  unconsciousness.  He  must  have  known  his 
danger,  but  he  talked  fitfully  of  Flaubert  and  of  Poe, 
of  'Salammbo'  and  of  'Nevermore.'  When  I  said  adieu 
he  was  praising  Poe  as  the  greatest  poet  in  English. 

"A  few  hours  afterward  I  heard  the  shouts  of  the 
natives  that  Gauguin  was  dead. 

''  'Haoe  mate!*  they  called  to  me.     *The  white  is  dead.' 

"I  found  Gauguin  on  his  cot,  one  leg  hanging  down 
to  the  floor.  Tioka  was  urging  him  in  Marquesan  to 
speak,  and  was  rubbing  his  chest.  I  took  his  arms  and 
tried  to  cause  respiration,  but  in  vain.  He  was  already 
beginning  to  grow  cold.  Do  you  know.  Monsieur 
Americain,  that  the  vicar  went  down  there  at  night  be- 
fore I  was  aware  of  it,  and,  though  Gauguin  despised 
him  and  his  superstitions,  forced  an  entrance  and,  had 
the  body  carried  to  the  Catholic  Cemetery,  with  mass, 
candles,  and  other  mummeries." 

The  good  Vicar,  Pkre  David,  had  another  tale.  He 
told  it  over  our  wine  at  the  mission.  My  House  of  the 
Golden  Bed  was  but  the  toss  of  a  mango  away,  and  we 


454  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

often  discussed  the  fathers,  especially  Anthony,  Jerome, 
and  Francis  of  Assisi. 

"It  is  not  true,"  he  said,  plucking  his  long,  black 
beard  nervously,  as  was  his  wont.  "Gauguin  was  born 
in  the  church.  Did  he  not  tell  me  he  was  the  descendant 
of  a  Borgia?  He  was  at  the  Jesuits'  school. 
The  devil  got  hold  of  him  early.  Ah,  that 
France  is  punished  for  its  breaking  of  the  Con- 
cordat. Napoleon  knew  what  was  needed.  Gauguin 
did  make  much  trouble  here.  I  do  not  care  what  he  did 
to  the  Government.  That  Government  is  usually  athe- 
ist. But  he  made  an  obscene  image  of  the  bishop. 
He  never  entered  our  mission,  after  he  had  secured 
his  land  from  us,  and  labor  to  build  his  house.  He 
derided  the  sacred  things  of  religion,  and  when  he  came 
to  die  he  sent  for  the  Protestant.  I  had  hoped  always 
that  he  would  recant  his  atheism  and  change  his  ways. 
He  was  immoral,  but  then  so  is  nearly  everybody  here 
except  the  fathers,  and  the  nuns.  That  very  pastor — 
Non!  I  guard  my  secret.  Mais,  it  is  not  a  secret,  for 
all  the  world  knows.     N'importe!     I  close  my  lips." 

He  was  determined  to  be  charitable,  but,  as  for  me, 
I  knew  the  charge  well,  and  had  disproved  it  by  personal 
research.  John  Kekela,  the  Hawaiian,  had  sworn  on 
the  Bible  given  his  father  by  Kalakaua,  the  last  Ha- 
waiian king,  that  it  was  a  lie,  and  Kekela  would  know 
for  sure,  and  would  not  kiss  the  book  falsely  for  feai* 
of  death  or,  at  least,  the  dreaded  fefe,  which  makes  one's 
legs  as  big  as  those  of  an  elephant. 

"But  despite  the  antagonism  of  Gauguin  to  the 
church  and  his  immorality,  you  took  charge  of  his  body 
and  gave  him  a  Catholic  funeral,"  I  said. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  455 

"Who  am  I  to  judge  the  soul  of  a  man?"  replied  the 
vicar,  deprecatingly,  his  right  hand  lifted  in  appeal. 
"He  was  alone  in  his  last  moments.  Doubtless  the 
Holy  Virgin  or  perhaps  even  the  patron  of  the  Mar- 
quesas, the  watchful  Joan  of  Arc,  aided  him.  Each  one 
has  his  guardian  angel  who  never  deserts  him.  When 
the  shadows  of  death  darken  the  room,  then  does  that 
angel  fight  with  the  demons  for  the  soul  of  his  charge. 
I  learned  that  Gauguin  was  dead  from  the  catechist. 
Daniel  Vaimai.  It  was  then  evening  of  the  day  he  had 
died,  and  I  had  been  ministering  to  a  sick  woman  in 
Hanamate,  an  hour's  ride  away.  I  met  Daniel  Vaimai 
at  the  cross-roads  and  he  informed  me  of  Gauguin's 
death.  I  felt  deeply  sorry  that  he  had  not  had  the  holy 
oils  in  his  extremity,  and  had  not  received  absolution 
after  confession,  but  the  devil  is  like  a  roaring  lion  of 
Afrique,  seeking  what  he  may  devour." 

"He  is  especially  active  here,"  I  ventured,  interested 
as  I  am  in  all  such  vital  matters.  The  vicar,  who  had 
been  talking  animatedly  and  gazing  at  an  invisible  con- 
gregation, fixed  his  eyes  on  me. 

"Here  in  the  Marquesas  and  wherever  whites  are," 
he  replied  acridly.  "But  to  return  to  Gauguin  1  I 
immediately  arranged  for  the  interment  of  the  dead  man 
the  next  morning.  In  this  climate  decay  f oUows  death 
fast.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  some  of  us,  including  two 
of  the  Frbres  de  la  doctrine  chrHienne,  had  hastened  to 
Gauguin's  house  when  his  death  was  announced  the  day 
before.  They  had  planned  his  funeral  for  two  o'clock 
the  next  morning,  but  we  made  it  a  trifle  earlier,  and 
removed  him  to  the  church  of  Atuona  shortly  after  one. 
There  we  had  mass  for  the  dead,  and  did  the  poor 


456  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

cadavre  all  honor,  or,  rather,  we  thought  of  the  soul 
that  had  fled  to  its  punishment  or  reward.  We  carried 
the  body  to  Calvary  and  put  it  in  the  earth," 

"I  find  no  stone  nor  any  mark  at  all  of  his  grave," 
I  said. 

"Peut-etre,  that  may  well  be,"  said  the  vicar  calmly. 
"I  do  not  know  if  one  was  placed.  He  had  no  kin  here 
nor  intimates  other  than  natives." 

"But  Pastor  Vernier  says  Gauguin  had  asked  long 
ago  to  be  buried  with  civil  rites  only,  and  that  he  had 
wanted  to  assist  in  them.  He  says  that  you  deceived 
him  as  to  the  hour  of  removal  to  the  church,  and  that 
when  he  arrived  at  two  o'clock  Gauguin  was  already  in 
the  mission  which  he  could  not  enter." 

The  vicar  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  cannot  enter  into  a  controversy  as  to  what  Vernier 
says.  Gauguin  was  of  Catholic  parentage.  Have  I 
not  said  he  claimed  to  be  a  descendant  of  a  Borgia,  and 
Borgias  were  popes?  What  more  or  less  could  the 
church  have  done?  Stern  as  that  Mother  may  be  to 
wayward  children  in  life,  she  spares  no  effort  even  in 
death  to  comfort  those  remaining,  and  to  help  by  prayer 
and  ceremony  the  spirit  that  wrestles  with  purgatory. 
We  ever  give  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  A  second  be- 
fore he  succumbed  to  that  heart  stroke,  or  the  laudanum, 
Gauguin  may  have  asked  for  forgiveness.  Only  God 
knows  that,  and  in  His  infinite  mercy  He  may  have  be- 
stowed on  him  that  final  penitence.  You  will  not  for- 
get the  thief  on  Calvary." 

That  villainous  Song  of  the  Nightingale  might  have 
given  success  to  my  quest  for  the  grave  of  Gauguin. 
I  cannot  remember  now  that  I  ever  mentioned  to  him 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  457 

my  looking  for  it.  He  pointed  it  out  to  a  recent  gov- 
ernor of  the  Marquesas  Islands,  Dr.  L.  Sasportas,  who, 
in  a  letter  to  Count  Charles  du  Pare,  now  of  Sari  Fran- 
cisco, tells  of  it : 

Gauguin,  of  whom  you  wrote,  had  not  departed  from  the 
tradition  of  adopting  native  customs;  and  unfortunately,  his 
influence  among  the  Marquesans  was  rather  bad  than  good.  I 
have  gathered  some  details  about  him,  which  may  interest  those 
who  know  that  sad  end  of  this  talented  painter  who  came  to  the 
Marquesas,  to  escape  the  civilized  world,  its  taxes,  ugliness  and 
evils.  He  found  here  the  government,  police,  the  tax  collector, 
etc.  If  these  islands  enjoy  an  eternal  summer,  disease  is  not 
lacking  in  them. 

Gauguin,  morphinomaniac,  lived  close  to  a  bottle  of  absinthe 
that  he  kept  fresh  in  hig  well.  He  was  condemned  to  serve  in 
jail  for  three  months,  and  one  morning  he  was  found  dead  near- 
by a  phial  of  laudanum.  He  committed  suicide.  Nothing 
remains  of  him.  His  house  has  been  demolished,  and  his  land 
is  a  field  of  potatoes.  His  last  paintings  have  been  carried 
away,  not  by  admirers,  but  by  merchants  who  did  not  ignore  the 
value  of  his  work. 

My  wife  and  I  went  once  to  a  little  French  cemetery  which 
lies  on  top  of  the  hill  and  among  a  hundred  Christian  tombs 
we  looked  for  Gauguin's.  About  three  quarters  of  the  crosses, 
worm-eaten,  had  fallen.  One  after  the  other  we  threw  them 
over  to  find  the  name  of  Gauguin.  It  was  in  vain.  After  we 
had  come  down,  we  inquired  ol  our  cook,  prisoner  and  drunkard, 
who  lived  here  at  the  time  of  Gauguin.  We  learned  that  the 
tomb  was  for  a  long  time  abandoned.  We  finally  found  it,  and 
we  had  a  wreath  of  natural  flowers  that  he  loved  so  much,  rose- 
laurel,  hibiscus,  gardenia  and  others,  placed  upon  the  spot. 
They  are  decayed  now,  alas,  as  is  Gauguin. 

That  again  was  Gauguin.     Fleeing  from  Europe, 


458  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

from  civilization,  from  the  redingote,  and  even  there, 
in  that  most  distant  isle,  thousands  of  miles  from  any 
mainland,  being  pursued  by  the  gendarme!  Had  he 
not  abandoned  Tahiti  after  a  decade  for  a  wilder  spot, 
yet  a  thousand  miles  farther,  hidden  in  a  bywater  of  the 
vast  ocean,  and  in  the  "great  cannibal  isle  of  Hiva-Oa" 
been  harassed  by  the  law  and  the  church? 

He  saw  there  was  no  escape,  and  that,  after  all,  the 
fault  was  in  him.  He  demanded  the  impossible  from 
a  world  corrupted  to  its  horizon.  He,  too,  could  say 
of  himself,  as  he  wrote  of  the  Tahitians,  and  then  of  the 
Marquesans : 

The  gods  are  dead  and  I  am  dead  of  their  death. 

"He  had  verses  on  that  god  he  made  for  his  garden," 
said  Le  Moine.     "They  began: 

'Les  dieux  sont  mort  et  Atuona  meurt  de  leur  mort.' 

That  was  it.  Gauguin  was  like  the  Marquesans  of 
his,  of  my,  village  of  Atuona.  Their  old  gods  were 
dead,  and  they  perished  of  the  lack  of  spiritual  sub- 
stance. .    ' 

Le  Moine  was  to  go  mad,  and  to  die,  as  I  would  have 
if  I  had  not  fled.     The  air  was  one  of  death. 

*'Le  soleil  autrefois  qui  Penfl«taimait  Pendort 
D'un  sommeil  desol^  d'affreux  sursauts  de  reve, 
Et  I'effroi  du  futur  remplit  les  yeux  de  I'Eve. 
Doree :  elle  soupire  en  regardant  son  sein, 
Or,  sterile  scelle  par  les  divins  desseins." 

When  I  returned  to  America  and  wrote  of  Gauguin, 
I  received  a  letter  from  his  son: 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  459 

.  .  .  novel  could  n't  hurt  Gauguin  as  an  artist.  We  men 
aren't  insulted  when  apes  yelp  at  us;  but  we  are  sometimes 
obliged  to  live  amongst  them,  so  when  you  defend  Gauguin 
against  the  quadrumanes,  you  make  it  easier  for  his  son  to  move 
in  their  midst. 

I  therefore  thank  you  and  beg  you  to  believe  me  your  most 
grateful  friend  and  admirer, 

Emilk  Gauguin. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Monsieur  I'lnspecteur  des  Etablissements  Fran^ais  de  I'Oceanie — How  the 
School  House  was  Inspected — I  Receive  My  Conge — The  Runaway 
Pigs — Mademoiselle  Narbone  goes  with  Lutz  to  Papeete  to  be  Mar- 
ried— Pfere  Simeon,  about  whom  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  wrote. 

ONE  must  admit  that  the  processes  of  govern- 
ment in  my  islands  were  simple.  Since  only 
a  couple  of  thousand  Marquesans,  of  an  orig- 
inal myriad,  were  alive,  after  three  score  years  of  colo- 
nialism, officialdom  had  lessened  according  to  the  mor- 
tuary statistics.  Sovereignty  was  evidenced  by  the  tri- 
color that  Song  of  the  Nightingale  occasionally  raised 
in  the  palace  garden,  while  Commissaire  Bauda  and  two 
gendarmes  aided  the  merry  governor  in  exercising  a 
lazy  authority.  There  was  no  hospital,  nor  school  to 
distract  the  people  from  copra  making,  and,  excepting 
for  the  court  sessions  of  Saturdays,  to  hear  moonshine 
cases,  or  a  claim  against  Chinese  rapacity,  we  might 
have  thought  ourselves  living  in  an  ideal  state  of 
anarchy. 

One  morning  we  awoke  to  the  reality  of  empire  and 
the  solicitude  of  Paris.  Flag,  the  mutoi,  peered  through 
the  windowless  aperture  of  my  cabin,  shortly  after 
dawn,  and  announced,  with  the  pompousness  of  a  bum- 
bailiff,  that  the  French  gunboat  Zelee  was  at  Tahauku, 
and  would  shortly  land  Monsieur  VInspecteur  des  Etab- 
lissements Franfais  de  VOceanie.  Flag  called  the  visi- 
tor 'Sieu  Ranisepatu,  and  in  pantomime  indicated  his 
rank  and  power.     The  Zelee  sent  him  ashore  at  the 

4€0 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  461 

stone  steps  of  Lutz's  store,  and  departed  for  Vaitahu, 
ostensibly  for  a  fresh  water-supply,  but,  as  Painter  Le 
Moine  said  with  an  oath,  the  commander  had  gone  to 
Le  Moine's  adopted  village,  Vaitahu,  to  make  love  to 
Vanquished  Often,  the  artist's  model. 

The  inspector  of  colonies  occupied  the  spare  room 
at  the  palace  and  our  pleasant  parties  were  suspended. 
He  was  a  gross,  corpulent  man,  in  a  colonel's  gilded  uni- 
form.    One  could  not  see  his  collar,  front  or  back,  for 
the  rolls  of  his  fat  neck  and  his  spacious  beard.     The 
tapis  was  full  of  troublesome  affairs.     The  governor 
and  Bauda  had  fallen  out.      Rum  was  responsible. 
The  governor  had  given  Taiao  Koe,  Flatulent  Fish, 
one  of  my  tattooed  neighbors,  a  permit  to  buy  a  gallon 
of  rum  for  Lutz.     Flatulent  Fish  lightened  his  jug 
too  much.     Commissaire  Bauda  met  him  wobbling  from 
port  to  starboard  on  his  horse,  and  took  the  jug.     That 
for  Bauda,  censor  of  morals!     But  the  same  day,  dur- 
ing the  difficult  work  of  repairing  Bauda's  arm-chair, 
Bauda  cheered  the  natives  with  rum,  and  two,  made 
utterly  reckless,  invaded  the  palace  garden  in  search  of 
more.     The  inspector  was  stupefied,  and  the  governor 
drove  them  away  with  threats  of  prison  and  indignant 
exclamations  that  such  a  thing  had  never  happened  be- 
fore.    Of  course,  Bauda  had  to  let  the  inspector  know 
of  his  action  in  saving  Flatulent  Fish  from  a  more 
wobbly  state,  and  he  did  so  in  ignorance  of  his  chair-re- 
pairers having  betrayed  to  the  inspector  his  own  liber- 
ality.    The  governor  did  not  fancy  Flatulent  Fish's 
permit  for  rum  being  brought  before  the  inspector's 
notice.     So  the  great  man  had  to  decide  whether  the 
Governor  or  the  Commissaire  was  supreme  in  rum 


462  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

matters,  rum,  of  course,  being  absolutely  forbidden  to 
the  natives. 

After  two  days,  this  matter  was  settled.  The  in- 
spector became  restless.  Every  day  he  said,  "I  must  see 
the  schoolhouse.  It  is  necessary  that  I  see  that 
important  building.*' 

He  meant  a  tumbledown,  unoccupied  cabin  up  the 
valley,  a  dirty,  cheap,  wooden  building,  bare  planks  and 
an  iron  roof. 

Rain  did  not  permit  the  inspector  to  go  at  once,  for 
he  did  not  stir  out  of  the  Governor's  house  while  it  was 
wet;  but  after  three  days  of  fair  weather  he  said  very 
firmly,  "I  will  visit  the  schoolhouse.  It  is  my  duty  and 
I  wish  to  report  on  that." 

So,  with  the  governor,  he  advanced  up  the  broken 
road  to  the  river,  which  must  be  crossed  to  go  up  the 
valley.  The  river  was  two  feet  deep.  There  were 
crossing-stones  placed  for  him,  but  he  was  stout  and 
they  were  three  feet  apart.  One  must  jump  from  one 
stone  to  the  other.  The  governor,  in  boots,  plunged 
into  the  purling  rill.  The  inspector  cried  to  the  gov- 
ernor, ''Mais,  mon  brave,  prenez  garde  aux  accidentsr 

"It  is  not  dangerous,"  said  the  governor,  who  in  five 
strides  had  reached  the  other  bank. 

"But  I  may  get  my  shoes  wet,"  said  the  inspector. 

"It  is  better  to  take  them  off,"  advised  the  governor. 

"Yes,  that  is  true.  Naturally  one  removes  one's 
shoes  when  one  crosses  a  river  on  foot.  And,  in  such  a 
case  as  this,  one  must  take  chances.  It  is  imperative 
that  I  inspect  the  schoolhouse.  Mais,  nom  d'un  chien! 
Where  shall  I  sit  to  take  off  my  shoes?" 

The  governor  suggested  a  certain  boulder,  but  it  was 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  463 

too  low;  another  was  too  high.  But,  after  inspecting 
many  boulders,  one  was  found  that  suited  the  embon- 
point of  the  big  man.  He  bent  over,  then  looked  at 
the  river,  and  sat  up  straight. 

"It  is  a  wooden  schoolhouse?"  he  queried. 

"Yes,  plain  wood,"  said  the  executive. 

"And,  par  consequence,  it  has  a  roof  and  a  floor  and 
sides,  and  maybe  some  wooden  desks  for  the  scholars. 
Steps  to  enter,  n'est-ce  pas?  And  a  tableau  noir,  to 
write  the  alphabet  on.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is 
little  difference  between  schoolhouses.  You  have  seen 
that  schoolhouse,  mon  ami?'* 

"Oui,  Monsieur  Vlnspecteur,  I  have  seen  it.  It  is 
exactly  as  you  describe  it.  Trds  simple,  and  the  black- 
board is  there,  but  a  trifle  disfigured." 

"Ah,  the  blackboard  is  in  bad  condition!  Bien,  we 
must  remedy  that.  I  am  well  satisfied.  I  will  return 
to  your  house.     These  stones  are  very  hot." 

The  bon  homme  marched  back,  pufling,  combing  his 
fan-like  whiskers  with  his  fingers,  with  that  quietly  ex- 
ultant air  of  one  who  has  done  his  duty  despite  all  risks. 

The  Zelee  returning,  and  this  being  the  total  of  his 
inspection,  he  ordered  it  to  speed  forthwith  to  Tahiti, 
where,  doubtless,  as  in  Paris,  he  recited  the  dangers  and 
difficulties  of  life  in  the  cannibal  islands.  He  forgot  to 
have  the  blackboard  repaired.  I  learned  by  letter  from 
Malicious  Gossip,  two  years  after  his  notation,  of  its 
deplorable  state.  The  ingratitude  of  colonies  toward 
their  foster-mothers  is  proverbial.  Our  own  fat  men, 
secretaries  of  war,  senators,  and  congressmen,  make  as 
cursory  examinations  of  our  American  vassals  in  the 
Pacific  and  Atlantic,  and  with  as  little  help  to  them. 


464  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

The  inspector's  conge  was  almost  synchronous  with 
mine.  The  Saint  Francois  of  Bordeaux,  the  first  mer- 
chant steamship  in  the  Marquesas,  arrived  from  Tahiti, 
to  swing  about  the  ports  of  my  archipelago  and  return 
to  Papeete.  My  heart  ached  at  leaving ;  the  tendrils  of 
the  purple-blossomed  pahue-wme  were  about  it.  How 
could  I  forsake  forever  my  loved  friends  of  Atuona  and 
Vaitahu,  Malicious  Gossip,  Mouth  of  God,  Vanquished 
Often,  Seventh  Man  Who  Is  So  Angry,  Great  Fern, 
Ghost  Girl,  and  the  little  leper  lass.  Many  Daughters? 
I  must  make  my  choice,  and  swiftly.  If  I  stayed  much 
longer,  I  would  never  live  again  in  America;  the 
jungle  would  creep  over  me  and  I  should  lie,  some  day, 
on  Calvary's  hill  near  the  lost  remains  of  Paul  Gauguin. 
There  was  Le  Brunnec,  the  best  of  the  whites,  but  he 
was  a  Breton  peasant,  born  to  the  sun  and  simplicity 
and  nature's  riches ;  I  was  of  the  shade  and  artificiality, 
of  pavements  and  libraries.  Nor  could  I  show  an  un- 
abraded  surface  to  these  savage  tropics  as  did  Lutz. 
His  Prussianism,  his  Lutheranism,  preserved  him  cold, 
and  ready  to  escape  at  fortune's  opening.  My  Irish 
forebears  and  American  generations  gave  me  no  such 
buckler,  nor  ambition. 

The  one  passenger  of  the  Saint  Francois  who  came 
ashore  on  our  beach  weighted  the  balance  for  America. 
He  was  Brunneck,  an  American  swimmer,  diver,  and 
boxer,  whom  I  had  seen  Sarah  Bernhardt  kiss  when  at 
Catalina  Island  he  rose  through  the  clear  waters  of 
Avalon  Bay  to  her  glass-bottomed  boat  and  presented 
her  with  an  abalone  shell.  I  traded  him  my  coffee-pot 
and  utensils  for  the  memory  of  Sarah's  moment  of 
abandon,  and  Brunneck  tipped  the  scales  for  me  toward 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  465 

the  America  he  had  deserted.  He  was  an  atavist  in 
a  grass  skirt  and  a  crown  of  ferns,  hatless,  purseless,  a 
set  of  boxing-gloves  his  only  impedimenta.  I  could  not 
equal  his  serenity,  that  of  a  civilized  being  again  in  har- 
mony with  the  earth.  I  hurried  aboard  the  steam- 
ship in  Tahauku  roadstead  to  decide  my  vacillation. 

By  dark,  the  Tahauku  River,  into  which  some  weary 
cloud  had  emptied,  sent  a  menacing  current  down  the 
roadstead.  The  steamship  rolled  and  swung  wildly. 
As  madder  grew  the  fresh  torrent,  the  anchors  dragged, 
and  the  vessel  drifted  broadside  toward  the  rocky  cliff. 
Steam  was  down  and  the  engines  would  not  turn.  The 
captain  yelling  from  the  bridge,  the  Breton  sailors  in 
noisy  sabots,  prancing  alarmedly  about  the  decks,  a 
search-light  playing  upon  the  rocks,  and  lighting  the 
groups  of  natives  watching  from  the  headlands,  the 
shouting  and  swearing  in  French  and  Breton  with  a 
word  or  two  for  my  benefit  in  English,  all  made  a 
dramatic  incident  with  a  spice  of  danger. 

The  Saint  Francois  swung  until  the  rail  on  which  I 
stood  was  four  feet  from  the  jagged  wall.  A  wild 
chant  rose  from  the  Marquesans  on  shore  in  the  moment 
of  most  peril.  I  made  ready  to  leap,  but  soon  heard  the 
hum  of  the  screw  as  it  began  fighting  the  current.  We 
gained  little  by  little,  and,  once  clear  of  the  rocks, 
pointed  the  prow  for  the  Bordelaise  Channel  and  com- 
parative safety.  The  cargo  boats  had  not  been  hoisted 
aboard,  and  they  banged  to  pieces  as,  urged  by  the 
rushing  river,  we  drove  through  the  door  of  the  bay 
and  out  to  sea. 

I  lay  down  on  a  bench,  and  when  I  awoke  at  dawn  we 
were  heading  back  for  Tahauku  to  finish  loading.     Ex- 


466  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

ploding  Eggs  was  beside  me.  I  had  not  known  he 
was  aboard.  The  adventures  of  the  night,  the  fires,  the 
engines,  the  electric  lights,  and  the  danger  had  delighted 
him. 

"Sacrel"  muttered  the  red-faced  captain  at  break- 
fast.    "These  Marquesas  are  as  bad  as  the  Paumotus." 

No  lighthouses,  charts  inaccurate,  shore-guides  lack- 
ing, treacherous  tides,  winds,  currents,  reefs,  and  pas- 
sages. Lying  Bill  said  it  took  "bloody  near  a  gen'us  to 
escape  with  his  life  after  thirty  years  of  navigation  in 
these  waters." 

The  Polynesians  believed  that  souls  animate  flowers 
and  plants,  that  these  are  organized  beings.  For  pigs, 
they  had  a  special  heaven,  Ofetuna.  Each  pig  had  a 
distinct  and  arbitrary  name,  which  was  never  changed, 
though  men  changed  their  names  often. 

On  the  deck  of  the  Saint  Francois  were  half  a  dozen 
slender  pigs  that  had  once  played  about  my  paepae  and 
were  now  engaged  in  resisting  the  monopolistic  ten- 
dencies of  Alphonse,  a  ram  bought  from  the  trader. 
By  uniting,  they  made  his  habitat  painful,  and  his  out- 
cries brought  the  steward,  who  attempted  to  correct  the 
ram,  but  was  butted  into  profanity  and  flight. 

"You  're  no  lam'  o'  goodness !  You  '11  be  chops 
mighty  soon!"  the  negro  shouted,  and  threw  a  pan  at 
him.  The  ram  bolted,  knocked  open  a  swinging  port, 
and,  followed  by  the  pork,  dived  into  the  bay.  He  may 
have  sensed  the  threat  of  the  steward. 

^'A  la  chassef  A  la  chasseT  ordered  the  captain  from 
the  bridge.  "Tonnerre  de  DieuJ  Our  meat  is  going 
ashore." 

If  a  boat  coming  to  the  Saint  Francois  had  not  inter- 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  467 

cepted  the  bold  deserters,  they  would  have  succeeded 
in  their  break  for  liberty,  and  probably  have  taken  to 
the  wilds.  The  recovering  them  was  no  easy  task,  but, 
diverted  from  the  rocks,  they  were  run  down,  after  half 
an  hour  of  fierce  commands  through  a  megaphone 
from  the  captain.  They  were  fast  swimmers,  being 
encumbered  by  no  fat.  Their  adventure  dispelled  for 
me  the  myth  that  pigs  cannot  swim.  The  story  ran 
that  in  swimming  pigs  cut  their  throats  with  their  hoofs. 

I  had  recognized  in  the  English-African  accent  of 
the  steward  the  lingo  of  the  West-India  negro,  and 
oddly,  I  remembered  having  seen  the  man  himself  at 
Kowloon,  in  China,  where  he  had  been  bartender  at  the 
Kowloon  Hotel.  With  no  word  of  French,  and  ten  days 
aboard  from  Tahiti,  the  black  man  was  bursting  with 
conversation.  Serving  me  with  a  bottle  of  Bordeaux 
beer,  he  spoke  of  his  hardships,  and  of  famihar  figures 
of  his  happier  days  at  Kowloon : 

"Yes,  sir,  men  can  stand  more  than  animiles,"  he  said. 
"They  can,  sir,  work  or  play.  You  remember  that  gor- 
iller  that  Osborne  had  in  the  Kowloon  Hotel  grounds? 
He  perished,  sir,  from  his  drinking  habits.  He  took 
his  reg'lar  with  the  soldiers  and  tourists,  and  his 
favoryte  tonoc  was  gin  and  whiskey  mixed,  but  after 
he  was  started,  he  would  'bibe  near  anything  'toxicat- 
ing.  You  remember  how  big  he  was?  Big  as  Sikh,  that 
goriller  was.  He  was  a  African  ape  like  the  white  per- 
fesser  says  he  is  descended  from. 

"Week  before  Chrismus,  that  infantry  regiment  in 
barricks,  in  Kowloon,  kept  him  late  every  night,  and  I 
seen  him  climb  to  his  house  in  that  tree  hardly  able  to 
hold  onto  the  limbs.     Chrismus  eve  he  let  nothing  slip 


468  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

his  paws.  He  began  with  the  punch — ^you  remember, 
sir,  the  punch  I  used  to  make?  and  he  overdone  it, 
though  he  had  a  stummick  like  a  India  major's.  He 
drank  with  the  officers  and  he  drank  with  the  Tommies. 
When  I  opened  the  bar,  Chrismus  morning,  he  was 
dead  on  the  ground.  He  had  n't  never  been  able  to 
reach  his  home.  Osborne  gave  him  a  Christian  berrial 
under  the  comquat  trees,  but  as  sure  as  you  're  born 
every  officer  and  soldier  turned  up  for  more  drink  that 
night.     Men  can  stand  more  than  animiles,  sir." 

All  morning  I  sat  on  the  deck  and  took  my  fill  of  the 
scenes  on  either  shore,  while  copra  was  hoisted  aboard 
from  canoes  and  boats.  Exploding  Eggs  was  ex- 
amining minutely  the  wonders  of  the  steamship,  re- 
porting to  me  occasionally  some  astounding  discovery. 
Until  then  I  had  refused  to  consider  taking  him  away 
from  his  people,  but,  in  a  moment  of  selfishness,  T 
drew  a  plat  of  America,  to  attract  his  thirteen  years, — 
the  lofty  buildings,  motor-cars,  telephones,  ice  and  ice- 
cream, snow  and  sleighs,  roller-skates  and  moving  pic- 
tures. He  had  seen  none  of  these,  nor  read  of  them, 
but,  nevertheless,  the  fear  of  homesickness  caused  him, 
after  a  few  minutes  to  say: 

*'Aoe  meted,  Nakohu  matar  which  meant,  "No  good; 
Exploding  Eggs  would  die!" 

Characteristic  of  all  primitive  peoples  was  this  nos- 
talgia, and,  far  from  being  sentiment  easily  smothered, 
it  was  more  often  than  physical  ailment  the  predispos- 
ing, or  even  actual,  cause  of  death  when  they  were  sepa- 
rated from  their  homes.  The  Pitcaim  youth  who  died 
in  Cahfornia  and  the  Easter  Islanders  who  could  not 
endure  even  their  exile  in  Tahiti  were  examples.     The 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  469 

Maori  Napoleon,  Te  Rauparaha,  gazed  upon  his  old 
home,  Kawhia,  and  wept  in  farewell.  His  legendary- 
song  says: 

O  my  own  home !     Ah  me !     I  bid  farewell  to  you, 
And  still,  at  distance,  bid  farewell. 

Before  noon,  I  was  overcome  by  a  longing  to  see 
Atuona  again.  The  voices  of  the  friends  who  had 
chanted  their  grief  were  in  my  ears.  I  landed  at  Ta- 
hauku  in  one  of  the  copra  boats  which  were  coming  and 
going,  and  walked  along  the  cliffs  until  I  came  within 
sight  of  the  beach  where,  so  often,  I  had  ridden  the  surf. 
I  went  at  a  fast  pace  down  the  hill,  hoping  for  a  familiar 
face.  At  a  point  overlooking  the  cove,  that  very  spot 
Stevenson  thought  the  most  beautiful  on  earth,  I  heard 
shouts  and  merry  laughter. 

I  moved  to  where  I  could  survey  the  spot.  There 
was  a  group  of  natives,  half  the  village,  at  least,  and  in 
the  center  of  the  chattering  crowd  was  Brunneck,  naked 
to  the  waist,  boxing  with  Jimmy  Kekela,  the  Hawaiian. 
The  yellow  hair  of  the  American  gleamed  against  his 
sun-burnt  skin,  as  he  toyed  with  the  amateur.  Ghost 
girl,  an  absorbed  spectator,  held  the  wreath  of  the 
American.  Mouth  of  God,  Haabuani,  and  Great  Fern 
were  dancing  about  the  circle  in  glee.  Exploding 
Eggs,  who  had  accompanied  me,  left  me  without  a 
word,  and  ran  to  the  ring.  I  stood  fifty  feet  away,  un- 
noticed. A  new  god  had  been  thrown  up  by  the  sea.  I 
returned  to  the  Saint  Francois  more  content  to  leave. 

When  I  awoke  from  a  siesta,  in  the  late  afternoon,  I 
found  preparations  for  immediate  departure.  The  an- 
chors were  being  hauled  short,  the  hatches  battened 


470  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

down,  and  the  cargo  booms  uphoisted.  We  waited  only 
the  final  accounts  from  Lutz.  He  brought  them  him- 
self in  the  last  boat,  in  which  were  also  Mademoiselle 
Narbonne  and  two  nuns.  She  was  again  in  black,  and 
greeted  me  in  a  distraught  manner  with  ''Kaohar  the 
native  salutation,  as  if  in  her  hour  of  departure  from  her 
own  island  she  clung  to  its  language.  She  went  below 
to  the  cabins  with  the  sisters,  and  only  after  the  screw 
had  revolved  and  we  turned  head  for  the  sea  did  the 
three  come  on  deck. 

Tears  suffused  her  eyes  as  we  passed  the  opening  of 
Atuona  Bay.  When  Exploding  Eggs  and  others, 
including  Song  of  the  Nightingale,  shouted  ''Kaoha* 
to  us  from  their  canoes,  she  put  her  head  upon  the  breast 
of  Sister  Serapoline  and  wept  passionately.  The  night 
drew  on  as,  after  many  bursts  of  her  sad  emotion,  she 
leaned  exhausted  on  the  bosom  so  long  her  shelter.  In 
the  flooding  moonlight,  she  slept,  while  the  nun  placidly 
counted  her  rosary. 

The  Saint  Francois,  steering  in  a  smooth  sea  for 
Taiohae,  on  the  island  of  Nuku-hiva,  the  captain,  Lutz, 
and  I  gathered  about  the  table  for  supper  and  wine. 
The  vessel  had  narrowly  escaped  shipwreck  in  the 
Paumotus,  and  had  lain  for  six  days  on  a  reef  while  the 
barrels  of  cement,  intended  for  some  improvement  at 
Atuona,  were  thrown  overboard  to  lighten  her. 

Lutz  did  not  seek  any  moment  of  intimacy  with  me, 
and  said  nothing  to  explain  Mademoiselle  Narbonne's 
presence  aboard.  Conforming  to  strict  native  etiquette, 
he  paid  no  attention  to  her,  and  a  stranger  would  have 
thought  he  hardly  knew  her.     Lutz  said  that  he  had 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  471 

business  affairs  in  Tahiti  and  had  jumped  at  the  chance 
of  a  quick  passage  in  the  steamship. 

At  dawn,  we  were  off  the  island  of  Nuku-hiva;  high 
up  on  a  green  mountain-side,  we  saw  a  silver  thread 
which  we  knew  to  be  the  waterfall  of  Typee  Valley,  the 
valley  in  which  Hermann  Melville  had  lived  in  captiv- 
ity and  happiness.  We  rounded  Cape  Martens,  and, 
as  the  sun  lit  the  rocky  forelands  guarding  the  bay  of 
Taiohae,  the  morning  breeze  brought  from  Typee  the 
delicious  odor  of  the  wild  flowers,  the  hinano,  the  tiare, 
and  the  frangipani.  This  beach  of  Taiohae,  months  be- 
fore, I  had  visited  in  a  whale-boat  from  Atuona.  I 
hoped  to  see  again  my  friend,  the  good  priest,  Pere 
Simeon  Delmas,  who  'had  held  the  citadel  of  God  here 
for  half  a  century. 

.  In  the  first  boat  ashore  went  the  captain  and  Lutz, 
and,  when  after  breakfast  I  asked  the  mate  to  be  put  on 
land,  Mademoiselle  Narbonne,  seeing  me  descending 
the  ladder,  joined  me. 

"Where  do  you  go?"  she  asked,  when  we  set  foot  on 
the  sand. 

"I  have  a  message  for  Prince  Stanislao  from  Le 
Brunnec,"  I  answered. 

"I  must  be  back  before  the  nuns  miss  me,  but  I  will 
go  with  you,"  she  said. 

Leaving  the  settlement,  we  were  soon  on  a  trail  with 
which  I  was  familiar  and  reached  a  little  wood.  She 
took  me  by  the  sleeve. 

"Attendez"  she  half  whispered.  "I  am  going  to  be 
married  to  Monsieur  Lutz  in  Papeete.  He  is  a  for- 
eigner, and  the  priest  could  not  marry  us.     At  Papeete 


472  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

the  judge  can  do  it.  The  nuns  are  going  with  me  to 
make  sure.  They  oppose,  but  I  am  determined.  It  is 
my  one  chance.  Tell  me,  American,  do  I  make  a  mis- 
take?" 

"Do  you  love  him?" 

"Love  him?"  she  said  hesitatingly.  "I  do  not  know 
what  love  is.  The  nuns  have  not  taught  me.  Always 
it  has  been  Joan  of  Arc,  or  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus. 
I  want  love  and  freedom,  but  I  am  afraid  of  stay- 
ing there  at  Taaoa  alone  with  those  two  old  women. 
They  are  true  Canaques,  and  would  make  me  like  them, 
and  I  am  afraid  of  the  convent.  Mon  dieu!  I  am  puz- 
zled by  life!" 

"Come!"  I  said,  "you  will  have  an  hour  of  light- 
heartedness  with  Stanislao.     I  am  puzzled,  too." 

Hardly  more  than  a  youth,  Stanislao  was  the  last  of 
the  blood  royal  of  the  family  that  had  ruled  the  Mar- 
quesas. Temoana  had  been  the  only  king.  The  Mar- 
quesans  were  communists,  with  chiefs,  and  had  not  the 
corroding  egocentrism  of  nationality  until  the  French 
crowned  Temoana.  He  had  been  one  of  the  few  travel- 
ers from  here.  Kidnapped,  a  dime-museum  man  in 
foreign  seaports,  he  returned  on  a  whaler  to  find  favor 
with  the  bishop  and  to  be  set  on  a  Catholic  throne. 
Prince  Stanislao  was  not  even  chief  of  Taiohae,  for  a 
half -Hawaiian,  of  the  Kekela  tribe,  had  that  office,  and 
did  the  French  policeman's  chores. 

We  entered  the  house  of  Stanislao  and  met,  besides 
him,  Antoinette,  an  odalisque,  most  beautiful  of  danc- 
ers, who,  like  Ghost  Girl,  flitted  from  island  to  island  by 
the  grace  of  her  charms.  I  had  known  her  in  the  Co- 
coanut   House  in  Papeete  and  her  sister,   Caroline. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  473 

Neither  she  nor  Stanislao  accepted  the  gospel  of  Chris- 
tianity. Her  warm  blood  had  in  it  an  admixture  of 
French  and  Italian,  giving  an  archness  and  spice  to  her 
manner  and  a  coquetry  to  her  eyes — black  and  dancing 
— that  maddened  many.  In  the  days  about  the  four- 
teenth of  July,  when  the  French  at  Tahiti  celebrated 
the  Fall  of  the  Bastille,  she  was  a  prize  exhibit,  for  then 
governors  and  bankers,  deacons  and  acolytes,  lost  the 
grace  of  God. 

These  three,  Barbe,  Antoinette,  and  Stanislao,  were 
extraordinary  in  their  unity  with  the  teeming  vivid  Ufe 
here,  the  ferns  and  orchids  and  flowers  on  the  sward, 
the  palms  and  breadfruit  in  the  grove.  By  the  alchemy 
of  the  brilhant  morning  and  the  company  of  this  pair 
of  youthful  lovers,  Barbe's  mood  was  suddenly  trans- 
muted into  joyousness.  I  took  an  accordion  off  a  shelf, 
and  played  the  upaupahura  of  Tahiti.  Without  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation,  and  with  no  sense  of  consciousness, 
the  three  danced  on  the  grass. 

Carlyle  praises  that  countryman  who,  matching  the 
boast  of  a  doctor  that  "his  system  was  in  high  order," 
answered  that,  for  his  part,  "he  had  no  system." 

Few  mortals,  it  is  to  be  feared,  are  permanently  blessed  with 
that  felicity  of  "having  no  system";  nevertheless,  most  of  us, 
looking  backward  on  young  years,  may  remember  seasons  of 
a  light  aerial  translucency  and  elasticity  and  perfect  freedom ; 
the  body  had  not  yet  become  the  prison-house  of  the  soul,  but 
was  its  vehicle  and  implement,  like  a  creature  of  the  thought, 
and  altogether  pliant  to  its  bidding.  We  knew  not  that  we  had 
limbs,  we  only  lifted,  hurled  and  leapt;  through  eye  and  ear 
and  all  avenues  of  sense  came  clear,  unimpeded  tidings  from 
without,  and  from  within  issued  clear  victorious  forces.     We 


474  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

stood  as  in  the  center  of  Nature,  giving  and  receiving  in  har- 
mony with  it  all;  unlike  Virgil's  husbandman,  "too  happy 
because  we  did  not  know  our  blessedness." 

Stanislao  seized  the  instrument  and  I  danced.  We 
four  were  the  spirits  of  a  rare  and  vital  esthetic,  a  har- 
mony with  being  that  denied  all  knowledge  but  that 
of  our  acute  and  delicately-poised  senses  of  warmth, 
delicious  odors,  fresh  colors  of  the  plants,  and  mutual 
attraction.  The  ship,  Lutz,  the  nuns,  heaven  and  hell, 
the  Taua  and  the  Tapus  were  forgotten  by  me  and  by 
Barbe  in  the  glowing  hour  of  dance  and  play. 

Tired  we  threw  ourselves  on  the  grass  and  drank 
from  the  cocoanuts  which  Stanislao  climbed  a  tree  to 
bring  us.  The  prince  told  us,  with  solemnity  in  which 
Marquesans  speak  of  olden  things,  an  incident  related 
to  him  by  his  uncle : 

"A  French  governor  here  forbade  the  girls  to  go  to 
the  war-ships  in  the  bay.  They  ruined  discipline,  he 
said.  Nevertheless,  three  daughters  of  a  powerful  chief 
swam  out  to  a  war  vessel.  The  commander,  discover- 
ing them  in  the  morning,  sent  them  ashore  to  the  gov- 
ernor, who  put  them  in  prison  for  three  days. 

"Their  father's  rage  was  terrible.  It  had  ever  been 
the  custom  for  the  young  women  to  visit  the  ships,  he 
said,  and  that  his  daughters  should  be  the  victims  of  a 
governor's  whim,  abetted  by  French  sailors  themselves, 
was  a  deadly  insult. 

"He  sent  a  message  to  the  governor:  *I  am  a  chief 
who  has  eaten  my  enemies  all  my  life.  I  will  wash  the 
hands  of  my  daughters  in  French  blood.' 

"The  sailors  were  forbidden  by  their  officers  to  leave 
the  beach.     They  had  been  going  up  the  river  to  bathe 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  475 

in  shady  spots,  but  they  were  warned  of  danger  and  a 
line  was  drawn  beyond  which  they  were  not  to  go.  A 
guard  was  stationed  a  httle  higher  up  the  stream,  and 
for  weeks  the  barrier  was  not  crossed.  But  sailors  know 
no  authority  when  woman  beckons," — it  has  been  so 
since  Jason  sought  the  Golden  Fleece, — "and,  when, 
through  the  glade,  they  saw  the  alluring  forms  of  the 
three  sisters,  the  governor's  orders  were  damned  as 
tyranny.  They  outwitted  the  guard  and  climbed  the 
trail  to  the  paepae  of  their  inamoratas.  The  chief  and 
his  warriors  trapped  six  of  them  after  a  struggle.  One 
sailor,  a  man  famed  for  strength,  killed  several  with  his 
hands.  They  were  outnumbered  and  were  brought, 
some  wounded  and  some  dead,  to  an  altar  up  the  valley, 
and  there  the  daughters,  at  the  command  of  their  father, 
bathed  their  hands  in  the  men's  blood,  as  he  had  sworn. 
Parts  of  the  bodies  were  eaten  and  the  remains  fed  to 
the  pigs. 

"The  governor  had  troops  brought  ashore  to  pursue 
the  chief.  For  a  year  he  evaded  them,  but  then  Vae- 
kehu,  the  widow  of  Temoana,  sent  him  word  to  come  to 
Taiohae  and  be  shot.  He  obeyed,  of  course,  and  met 
death  near  the  hill  of  the  fort. 

"That  was  the  palace  of  Queen  Vaekehu,"  said  the 
prince,  pointing  up  the  hill.  It  was  by  a  pool,  under 
a  gigantic  banyan,  a  lonely  site,  a  palisade  of  cocoanuts 
and  tamarinds  not  availing  to  soften  the  gloomy  im- 
pression. Long  before  she  died  the  queen  forsook  her 
royal  residence  for  the  shelter  of  the  convent,  where  all 
day  she  told  her  beads,  or  sat  in  silent  contemplation. 

Bishop  Dordillon  who  had  written  my  dictionary,  had 
given  the  queen  a  Trinity,  a  Mother  of  God,  and  a  band 


476  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

of  saints  to  dwell  upon,  and  more,  a  bottomless  pit  of 
fire,  with  writhing  sufferers  and  devils  from  it  ever  at 
her  ear  to  whisper  distraction  and  temptation. 

Mademoiselle  Narbonne,  hearing  a  warning  whistle 
of  the  Saint  Francois,  bethought  her  of  her  strange  posi- 
tion, of  the  sisters  and  of  Lutz.  She  trembled,  turned 
pale,  and  begged  to  be  excused  as  she  started  running 
to  the  beach  to  catch  a  boat  about  to  shove  off.  I  also 
bade  good-by  to  the  two,  with  a  sigh  for  their  fleeting 
felicity,  and  strolled  to  the  Catholic  mission. 

Pere  Simeon  was  seated  at  a  table  under  an  umbra- 
geous hao  tree,  writing.  He  was  in  a  frayed  and  soiled 
cassock  of  black.  His  hair  was  white,  and  his  beard 
grizzled,  both  long  and  uncut  and  flowing  over  his  re- 
ligious gown.  His  face  was  broad  and  rubicund,  and 
his  remarkable  eyes — a  deep,  shining  brown,  eyes  of 
childish  faith — proclaimed  him  poet  and  artist.  Aged, 
he  had  yet  the  strength  and  heartiness  of  middle  age, 
and  when  I  greeted  him  he  rose  and  kissed  me  with 
warmth. 

"Ah,"  he  exclaimed,  "Monsieur  O'Brien,  you  have 
returned  to  hear  more  of  Jeanne  d'Arc,  is  not  that  so? 
You  have  been  too  long  in  Atuona.  You  should  stay 
in  Taiohae,  and  see  what  we  have  here.  We  go  along 
well.     Joan  of  Arc  looks  after  us." 

We  entered  the  sitting-room  of  the  mission,  and  were 
soon  with  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  cigarettes,  in  a  discussion 
of  affairs. 

I  asked  to  see  any  recent  poems  he  had  written,  and, 
blushingly,  he  handed  me  the  paper  over  which  he  had 
been  bending. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  477 

"There  has  heen  an  excess  of  drinking  recently,"  he 
said  ruefully,  as  he  took  a  sip  of  his  mild  claret.  I  read 
his  stanzas  aloud: 

**Comment  peut-on  pour  un  moment  d'ivresse, 
Par  le  demon  se  laisser  entrainer? 
Que  de  regrets  suivraient  cette  faiblesse! 
Je  n'ai  qu'une  ame  et  je  Veux  la  sauver. 

*'0h !  que  je  crains  la  perte  de  mon  ame! 
Pour  la  sauver  je  saurai  tout  braver, 
J'ai  mon  refrain  pour  quiconque  me  blame, 
Je  n'ai  qu'une  ame  et  je  veux  la  sauver." 

Now  I  have  no  skill  in  rime,  but,  inspired  by  his 
ready  gift,  I  took  his  paper  and  wrote  what  might  be 
called  a  free  translation.     I  read  it  to  him  as  follows: 

Oh,  how  can  a  man  for  a  moment's-  bibacity 
Let  the  demon  take  hold  of  his  soul? 
Remorse  is  the  fruit  of  such  wicked  vivacity ; 
Hell  follows  the  flowing  bowl. 

"Oh,  how  I  fear  that  I  weakly  may  lose  it, 

And,  to  guard  it,  will  everything  brave ! 

I  '11  tell  the  world  that  would  tempt  me  to  bruise  it ; 

I  have  but  one  soul  to  save. 

''Helasr  commented  the  priest-,  "I  cannot  under- 
stand one  word  of  it.  Doubtless  it  surpasses  my  poor 
lines  in  excellence.  "I  will  multiply  copies  of  this 
poem  on  my  hectograph,"  said  P^re  Simeon,  "and  I 
will  distribute  them  where  they  will  do  most  good." 

"Captain  Capriata  will  receive  one?"  I  ventured,  re- 
calling that  in  the  procession  in  honor  of  Joan  of  Arc's 


478  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

anniversary  the  old  Corsican  skipper  had  fallen  with  the 
banner  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans. 

Pere  Simeon's  face  glowed  with  zeal. 

"I  will  name  no  names,"  he  said,  "but  Capriata  is  a 
good  man  and  comes  often  to  church  now." 

For  months,  I  had  desired  to  ask  a  question  of  Pdre 
Simeon,  since  Lutz  had  told  me  that  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson  had  written  about  him.  The  trader  had 
shown  me  his  copy  of  "In  the  South  Seas,"  and  had 
pointed  out  the  error  of  the  printer,  who  had  made 
Stevenson's  "Father  Simeon  Delmas"  "Father  Simeon 
Delwar." 

"Phre  Simeon,"  I  said,  "a  writer  about  the  islands 
mentions  you  in  his  book.  He  was  here  a  long  time 
ago  in  a  httle  yacht,  the  CascOj  and  he  says  that  he 
went  with  you  from  Hatiheu,  to  a  native  High  Place, 
and  that  you  named  the  trees  and  plants  for  him.  You 
had  a  portfolio,  he  said,  from  which  you  read." 

The  missionary  stopped  a  moment,  and  plucked  his 
beard,  inquiringly. 

"There  have  been  many  come  here,  in  fifty  years," 
he  said  slowly,  "yachtsmen  and  students.  I  do  not  re- 
call the  name  Stevenson." 

Something  pricked  his  recollection,  and  he  took  me 
into  the  rectory  and  produced  his  portfolio. 

"Here  is  the  list;  I  must  have  read  that  author,"  he 
said. 

"You  gave  an  abstract  of  the  virtues  of  the  trees  and 
plants,  Stevenson  says  in  his  volume." 

''Le  voildr  replied  the  priest.  "Stevenson?  Do 
you  mean  perhaps  Louis,  who  was  a  consumptive?" 

He  made  a  rapid  movement  of  the  hand  to  his  face, 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  479 

and  drew  upon  the  air  a  mustache  and  imperial,  a  slen- 
der figure  with  a  slight  stoop — in  a  word,  the  very- 
shadow  of  the  master  of  romance. 

*'He  was  much  with  Stanislao,  the  king's  son.  He 
was  trds  distingue.  He  was  here  but  a  little  time. 
However,  I  remember  him  well,  because  he  was  very 
sympathique,  and  a  gentleman. 

*'I  will  tell  you  why  he  impressed  me  particularly. 
He  was  not  French,  but  he  spoke  it  as  I  do,  and  he  was 
curious  about  the  cannibalism  which  was  then  practi- 
cally eradicated.  There  was  another  priest  with  me 
who  was  then  very  ill.  He  died  in  my  arms.  I  re- 
member the  evening  he  told  Stevenson  of  how  he  had 
saved  the  life  of  a  foolish  French  governor.  There  had 
been  rumors  of  a  cannibal  feast  at  Hatiheu,  and  the 
governor  was  incensed.  He  feared  that  the  in- 
cident might  be  reported  to  Paris  and  injure  his 
prestige.  He  blamed  the  chief,  and  sent  him-  word 
that  if  it  were  proved  he  would  personally  blow  out 
his  brains. 

"Soon  word  came  that  the  Hatiheu  people — I  was 
pastor  there  for  a  quarter  of  a  century — had  killed  sev- 
eral of  their  enemies,  and  were  eating  them  and  drink- 
ing namu  enata.  The  governor  started  off  in  haste 
from  Taiohae,  for  Hatiheu  and  the  priest  went  with 
him,  as  also  several  gendarmes. 

"Hundreds  of  natives  were  grouped  in  the  public 
place,  chanting,  dancing,  and  drinking. 

"  'Where  is  the  chief?'  demanded  the  governor. 

"  *I  am  here,'  said  a  voice,  stem  and  menacing,  and 
the  chief  broke  from  the  throng  and  advanced  toward 
the  governor. 


480  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"The  latter  drew  his  revolver.  *You  have  permitted 
this  breaking  of  the  law,  after  I  sent  you  word  that 
I  would  kill  you  if  you  ate  human  flesh?' 

"'Er  rephed  the  chief  in  a  high  voice.  'I  am  the 
master  in  Hatiheu.     Do  you  wish  to  be  eaten?' 

"The  war-drums  sounded  and  the  grim  warriors  be- 
gan to  surround  the  party.  My  friend,  who  was,  for 
safety,  an  adopted  son  of  the  chief,  and  thus  taboo, 
seized  the  governor  and  led  him  to  the  boat.  They  got 
away  by  sheer  courage  on  the  priest's  part.  He  de- 
scribed this  to  Louis,  who  wrote  it  down.  I  recall  it 
clearly,  because  the  poor  martyr  died  the  next  week. 
Did  Louis  write  of  the  Marquesas  much?" 

I  said  that  he  had.  I  should  have  liked  to  stay  and 
gain  from  Pere  Simeon  all  I  could  of  his  memories  of 
the  poet,  but  a  boy  came  running  up  the  road  to  say 
that  the  Saint  Francois  was  to  leave  very  soon. 

I  embraced  Pere  Simeon.  He  kissed  me  on  both 
cheeks,  and  gave  me  his  blessing.  It  had  been  worth 
a  voyage  to  know  him. 

Jerome  Capriata,  the  eater  of  cats,  was  outside  his 
house.  He  invited  me  in  to  meet  his  wife,  a  barefooted 
Frenchwoman  who  sat  in  a  scantily-furnished  room, 
musing  over  a  bottle  of  absinthe.  I  could  stay  only  a 
minute,  as  the  Saint  Francois  whistled  insistently.  His 
wife  set  out  the  bottle  and  glasses  before  us,  and  we 
drank  the  farewell  gtoutte. 

On  the  way  to  the  beach  I  met  Mrs.  Fisher,  whom 
Bishop  Dordillon,  my  dictionary  writer,  had  as  adopted 
mother,  when  he  was  old  enough  to  be  her  grandfather. 
That  was  because  Queen  Vaekehu  had  adopted  him  as 


"S 


.ss 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  481 

a  grandson,  and  Mrs.  Fisher  as  a  daughter,  and  the 
bishop  had  observed  the  pseudo-relationship  strictly. 

"Mrs.  Stevenson  gave  me  a  shawl,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher. 
"I  have  shown  that  to  many  people.  Madame  Jack 
London  wore  it  when  she  was  here  with  her  husband 
on  the  Snark,  They  lived  with  Lutz,  the  German,  who 
was  then  here.  Paw)re  Stevenson!  He  had  to  die 
young,  and  here  I  am,  after  all  these  years !" 

I  waded  through  the  surf  to  the  boat,  and  reached 
the  Smnt  Francois  to  find  all  the  others  aboard.  We 
shipped  the  buoy  and  were  away  in  a  trice.  The  last 
sight  I  had  of  the  shore  was  of  the  promontory  where 
Captain  Porter  raised  the  American  flag  a  hundred 
years  before.  I  was  never  to  see  the  Marquesas  Is- 
lands again.  The  fresh  breath  of  nature  was  too  foul 
with  the  worst  of  civilization. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

McHenry  gets  a  caning — The  fear  of  the  dead — A  visit  to  the  grave  of 
Mapuhi — En  voyage. 

IMAGINE  my  delight  when  the  captain  of  the 
Saint  Francois  set  our  course  for  Takaroa,  the 
atoll  of  Mapuhi,  Nohea,  and  the  crippled  diver 
who  had  possessed  the  great  pearl  of  Puka-puka !  The 
Marquesas  Islands  are  only  eight  hundred  miles  from 
the  Society  Islands,  of  which  Tahiti  is  one,  and  between 
the  Marquesas  and  the  Society  Islands  lie  the  strewn 
eighty  atolls  of  the  lies  Dangereuses  or  Paumotu 
group.  With  steam  we  ran  the  half -thousand  miles  or 
so  from  Taiohae  in  two  nights  and  two  days,  and  at 
daybreak  of  the  second  day  were  due  to  see  the  famil- 
iar, lonely  figure  of  the  wrecked  County  of  Rocchurgk 
on  an  uninhabited  motu  of  Takaroa.  It  was  this  star- 
tling sight  that  informed  the  Londons  in  the  Snark  that 
they  were  out  of  their  course  and  in  danger,  and  it  was 
Takaroa  the  Stevensons  in  the  Casco  looked  for,  only 
to  fetch  up  at  Tikei,  thirty  miles  to  windward.  I  had 
no  confidence  in  our  Breton  captain,  to  whom  these 
waters  were  as  unknown  as  the  Indies  to  Columbus. 
I  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  the  lofty  iron  masts  of 
the  dismantled  vessel  loomed  on  the  horizon. 

After  so  many  months  in  the  frowning  islands  of 
the  war  fleet,  with  their  thunderous  headlands,  gleaming 
streams,  and  green  and  black  valleys,  the  spectacle  of 

482 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  483 

the  slender  ring  of  white  sand  and  coral,  the  verdant 
banners  of  this  first  of  the  Low  Islands  lying  flat  upon 
the  jeweled  waters,  aroused  in  me  again  sensations  of 
wonder  at  the  ineff'able  variety  of  creation ;  the  myriad- 
mindedness  of  the  Creator.  The  crash  of  the  surf  upon 
the  outer  reef,  the  waving  of  the  breeze-stirred  cocoa- 
nuts,  the  flight  of  a  solitary  bird,  contrasted  with  the 
marvelous  fabrication  of  man,  the  metal  ship,  thrown  by 
a  toss  of  the  sea  and  a  puiF  of  the  wind  among  these 
evidences  of  a  beautiful  yet  deadly  design. 

The  Saint  Franfois  crept  along  the  coast  of  the  atoll 
and  anchored  opposite  the  pass,  a  good  mile  from  the 
breakers.  Everybody  was  on  deck,  the  black-gowned 
nuns  with  Mademoiselle  Narbonne — she  also  in  a  tunic 
of  religious  hue.  Since  we  had  left  Nuku-hiva  they  had 
not  appeared.  The  contrary  currents  and  confused 
trade-winds  among  these  Pernicious  Islands  had  kept 
them  in  their  cabin.  The  six-hundred-ton  hull  of  the 
Saint  had  see-sawed  through  the  two  hundred  leagues 
of  the  tropic  of  Capricorn,  and  only  hardened  trencher- 
men like  the  ship's  officers  and  myself  could  find  ap- 
petite for  food.  Lutz,  too,  had  raised  a  mournful  face 
to  the  deck  but  seldom.  A  few  hundred  sacks  of  copra 
awaited  us  at  Takaroa,  and  we  put  off  a  life-boat  to 
bring  it  aboard.  Lutz  and  I  accompanied  the  second 
officer  with  a  command  from  the  captain  to  stay  no 
longer  than  the  cargo's  loading.  Lying  Bill's  schooner, 
the  Morning  Star,  was  in  the  lagoon,  and,  seeing  it 
there,  I  wondered  if  Mapuhi,  the  great  sailor  of  these 
atolls,  had  steered  it  through  the  narrow  pass.  About 
the  landing,  despite  the  uniqueness  of  the  steamship's 
arrival,  was  an  unusual  quietude,  a  hush  that  moved  me 


484  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

to  fear,  as  a  presage  of  evil.  A  cholera-stricken  village 
in  the  Philippines  had  that  same  dismal  aura.  A  few 
natives  were  upon  the  coral  mole,  and  the  Mutoi  came 
forward  to  examine  our  papers. 

"Let  us  go  to  the  house  of  Mapuhi,"  I  said  to 
Lutz. 

'"^Ja  wohl/'  he  replied ;  "I  have  not  met  him  in  many 
years." 

We  left  the  mate  and  walked  along  the  path  past 
the  traders'  stores.  The  thousand  feet  that  trod  the 
coral  road  and  had  gone  in  and  out  the  dozen  shops  of 
the  dealers  and  pearl-buyers  during  my  stay  on  Takaroa 
were  missing,  but  more  than  the  stir  and  hum  of  the 
rahui  was  absent.  A  depressing  torpor  possessed  the 
little  village.  Mapuhi's  store  was  closed  tightly,  and 
from  no  house  or  hut  did  a  head  show  or  a  greeting 
come. 

We  saw  that  the  door  of  one  shop  was  ajar,  and, 
going  in,  happened  on  a  pleasant  and  illuminating 
scene.  Angry  words  in  Tahitian  we  heard  as  we 
mounted  the  steps,  and  smothered  exclamations  of  a 
profane  sort  in  English  which  had  a  familiar  note. 
Back  of  the  counter  was  a  very  large  Tahitian  woman 
who,  with  a  heavy  fishing-rod  of  bamboo,  was  thrashing 
a  white  man.  She  was,  between  blows,  telling  him  that 
if  he  got  drunk  or  spoke  rudely  to  her  again,  she  would 
"treat  him  as  a  Chinaman  did  his  horse  in  Tahiti,*' 
which  is  a  sjnionym  for  roughness.  He  was  evading 
the  strokes  of  the  bamboo  by  wriggling,  and  guarding 
with  his  arms,  and  was  cursing  in  return,  but  was  plainly 
afraid  of  her.  He  was  McHenry,  my  ofttime  com- 
panion of  revels  at  the  Cercle  Bougainville  in  Papeete, 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  485 

who  had  come  on  the  Flying  Fish  with  me  from  Tahiti, 
and  had  remained  in  Takaroa. 

Many  times  he  had  boasted  of  his  contempt  for  native 
women. 

"I  Ve  had  my  old  lady  nineteen  years,"  he  said  once, 
"and  she  wouldn't  speak  to  me  if  she  met  me  on  the 
streets  of  this  town.  She  wouldn't  dare  to  in  public 
until  I  recognized  her." 

Lutz  and  I  did  not  utter  a  sound,  but  quickly  de- 
scended the  steps. 

"I  never  before  saw  a  native  wife  beating  her  hus- 
band," he  commented  caustically.  "That  McHenry  de- 
serves it.  Lying  Bill  often  said  McHenry's  vahine 
took  a  stick  to  him.  Tahitian  women  will  not  be 
whipped  themselves." 

Lutz  should  know.  He  had  had  fourteen  years  with 
a  Tahitian  mistress,  a  wife  in  her  own  eyes  as  much  as 
if  wedded  in  a  cathedral.  Would  he  not  have  to  face 
her  in  Papeete  when  he  should  be  married  to  Made- 
moiselle Narbonne?  Perhaps  she  had  a  stronger 
weapon  than  a  rod!  The  tauas  sorcery  might  stretch 
over  the  ocean,  and  be  potent  in  Tahiti. 

Lutz  and  I  were  almost  at  Mapuhi's  residence  when 
we  met  Nohea,  my  host  of  the  fishing  and  diving.  No- 
hea  was  in  a  black  cloth  coat  and  a  blue  pareu,  and  his 
countenance  was  distressed. 

"7a  ora  na,  Nohea!"  I  called  to  him.  "Is  Mapuhi  a 
Mapuhi  at  home?" 

"Mapuhi?"  he  repeated  and  shuddered.  "Mapuhi 
mater 

Mapuhi  dead  I  It  did  not  seem  possible;  the  giant  I 
had  known  so  recently! 


486  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

Nohea  began  to  weep  and  left  us.  Outside  the  in- 
closure  of  Mapuhi's  house  were  a  dozen  men,  and 
among  them  Hiram  Mervin,  the  Paumotu- American 
who  had  described  to  me  the  cyclone  of  Hikueru.  We 
shook  hands,  and  I  asked  of  what  Mapuhi  had  died. 
Surely  not  of  disease.  The  reef  must  have  beaten  him 
at  last.  I  could  not  think  of  that  super-man  yielding  to 
a  clot  or  a  kidney.  He,  who  had  made  the  wind  and 
currents  his  sport,  who  in  the  dark  of  night  had  sailed 
through  foaming  passes  the  white  mariner  shunned  in 
broad  daylight,  who  had  given  largesse  to  his  people  for 
decades,  and  who  had  made  the  shells  and  nuts  of  his 
isles  pay  him  princely  toll,  despite  the  cunning  of  the 
white,  the  papaa,  who  came  to  take  much  and  give  little. 

*'He  was  eighty,"  said  Hiram  Mervin.  "He  took 
sick  on  Reitoru,  that  tiny  island  near  here.  He  was 
brought  here.     Some  one  wanted  to  give  him  medicine. 

"  *No,'  he  said,  'my  time  has  come.  I  will  not  hve 
by  things.  I  die  content.  I  have  been  a  good  Mor- 
mon since  I  accepted  the  Word.  What  I  did  before  was 
in  darkness,  when  I  was  a  gentile.' 

*'He  passed  away  peacefully.  We  lost  a  bulwark 
of  the  church,  but  he  will  reign  with  Christ." 

Lutz  and  I  did  not  wish  to  intrude  upon  the  kin  of 
Mapuhi,  nor  to  remain  longer  within  the  sound  of  the 
wailing  that  now  issued  from  the  house  at  the  news  that 
I,  the  American,  had  come  back  on  the  steamship.  This 
extemporized  burst  of  lamentation  was  a  special  honor 
to  me  and  to  the  decedent,  an  expression  of  a  tie  be- 
tween us,  and,  though  it  swelled  suddenly  at  my  arrival, 
was  not  the  crying  of  hired  mourners  but  the  lacryma- 
tion  of  sincere  grief.     In  wakes  among  the  Irish  I  had 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  4,87 

found  exactly  the  same  spirit — an  increase  or  instant  re- 
newal of  the  keening  or  shrieking  when  one  who  had 
been  dear  to  the  dead  person  appeared. 

We  two  walked  away,  and  encountered  McHenry, 
who  had  learned  of  our  presence.  McHenry  was 
shaken  by  the  castigation  given  him  by  his  wife,  and 
assumed  an  air  of  brazen  indecency  and  bluster  to  hide 
his  condition. 

"One  bottle  of  booze  and  I  '11  make  'em  all  quit  their 
catabawlin'  an'  dance  a  hula,"  he  said.  "Much  they 
care  for  except  the  bloomin'  francs  the  ol'  boy  left 
'em  I" 

McHenry  exposed  his  own  vulturous  desires,  and  not 
the  feelings  of  the  tribe  of  Mapuhi.  To  them  the  pass- 
ing of  Mapuhi  was  as  to  the  Jews  that  of  their  leader 
by  Nebo's  lonely  mountain.  The  great  man  had  ex- 
pired the  night  before,  and  preparations  were  being 
made  to  bury  him.  In  this  climate  the  body  hastens 
to  rejoin  the  elements.  The  chief  was  not  to  lie  in 
the  common  charnel  in  a  grove  on  another  motu  of  Taka- 
roa.  As  suitable  to  his  rank  and  wealth  and  his  gen- 
erosity to  the  Mormon  church,  he  had  retained  for  him- 
self a  piece  of  ground  beside  the  temple.  A  coral  wall 
inclosed  the  small  necropolis.  Within  a  hundred  feet  of 
the  sea,  in  the  brilliant  coral  sand,  rugged  and  bare, 
it  was  fit  anchoring  groimd  for  this  ship  among  canoes. 
One  tombstone  leaned  against  the  wall,  a  plain  slab  of 
marble,  inscribed: 

Punau  Mapuhi  tei  poke  ite  80  Me  1899 

Punau  was  the  wife  he  had  clung  to  under  Mormon- 
ism,  and  who  had  borne  him  the  son  and  daughter 


488  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

I  knew.  Many  years  he  had  survived  her,  and  had 
not  married  another.  The  reHgion  of  polygamy  had 
made  of  the  old  barbarian  an  ascetic,  who  had  been  a 
Grand  Turk  under  Protestantism  and  Catholicism,  be- 
tween which  he  had  wavered  according  to  the  novelty 
offered. 

The  body  of  Mapuhi  was  laid  out  in  the  principal 
room  of  his  house,  the  room  in  which  I  had  met  him 
and  the  American  elders  on  my  first  landing.  Nohea 
and  others  had  worked  through  the  night  to  build  a 
coffin.  They  had  used  the  strong  planks  the  dead  man 
had  gathered  from  the  deck  or  cabin  of  the  County  of 
Roxburgh,  and  had  polished  them  with  cocoanut-oil,  so 
that  they  shone.  The  coffin  was  lined  with  the  sleep- 
ing-mat of  Mapuhi,  and  in  it  he  reposed,  dressed  in  his 
churchly  clothes,  a  black  frock  coat,  white  trousers,  and 
a  stiff  white  shirt.  No  collar  cumbered  his  neck,  nor 
were  shoes  upon  the  ample  feet  that  had  walked  on  the 
floor  of  the  sea.  Most  of  the  people  of  Takaroa  took 
a  last  look  at  him,  but  some  did  not,  for  fear.  I  gazed 
a  few  minutes  at  his  face.  More  than  in  life,  the  like- 
ness to  a  mutilated  Greek  statue  struck  me;  perhaps 
the  head  of  a  Goth  seen  in  the  Vatican  Gallery. 
Strength,  repose,  and  mystery  were  in  the  powerful 
mold  of  it,  the  broad,  low  forehead,  the  rounded  chin, 
and  wide-open  eyes.  I  had  seen  many  so-called  impor- 
tant men  in  death,  when  as  a  reporter  I  wrote  obsequies 
at  a  penny  a  line.  This  Paumotuan  chief's  corpse  had 
more  majesty  and  peace  than  any  of  them — a  nearer 
relation  to  my  conception  of  an  old  and  wise  child  of 
the  eternal  unity,  glad  to  be  freed  from  the  illusion 
of  life. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  489 

In  the  village,  the  huts  were  still  closed.  No  fisher- 
man put  off  in  a  canoe,  and  none  sat  making  or  mending 
nets.  McHenry  and  I  paddled  out  to  the  Morning 
Star,  The  skipper  was  on  deck  with  Ducat,  the  mate. 
Some  native  had  hurried  to  them  with  the  amusing  gos- 
sip of  McHenry 's  vahine  beating  him,  and  he  had  to 
bear  a  storm  of  ridicule.  Lying  Bill  rehearsed  his 
boasts  about  her  inferiority,  and  Ducat,  who  had  hu- 
mihated  him  before  me  long  ago,  taunted  him  with  his 
submission  to  her. 

"I  did  n't  want  to  kill  her,"  was  all  McHenry  could 
retort.  McHenry  had  a  story  of  Chocolat  which  was  dis- 
tracting. Captain  Moet  of  the  Flying  Fish  had  come 
into  Takaroa  a  month  or  two  before  with  Chocolat,  a 
fair-sized  dog.  The  tricks  Chocolat  did  when  I  was  on 
Moet's  schooner  were  incomparable  with  his  later  edu- 
cation. 

"The  bloomin'  pup  would  stand  on  his  hind  legs 
and  dance  to  a  tune  Moet  whistled,"  said  McHenry. 
"He  could  count  up  to  five  with  cards,  and  could  pick 
all  the  aces  out  of  a  piquet  pack.  He  would  let  Moet 
throw  him  overboard  in  port,  and  catch  a  rope's  end 
with  his  teeth  and  hold  on  while  he  was  pulled  up.  He 
was  a  reg'lar  circus  performer.  You  know  Moet  and 
I  ain't  very  close.  He  done  me  a  dirty  turn  once.  I 
knew  if  I  could  ever  get  Chocolat  to  Papeete,  an'  on 
the  steamer  from  San  Francisco,  I  could  sell  him  to  a 
bloody  American  tourist  for  a  thousand  francs.  Moet 
watched  me  like  a  gull  does  the  cook  when  he  empties 
his  pail  overside.  Now,  you  know  me;  I  ain't  nobody 
to  say  to  you  can't  do  this  or  that.  I  laid  for  that  pup, 
and,  when  I  went  aboard  the  schooner  just  before  she 


490  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

sailed,  I  took  a  Kttle  opium  I  got  from  the  Chink  pearl- 
buyer  here;  and  I  put  a  pill  of  it  in  a  piece  of  fresh 
pork,  and  took  it  aboard  in  my  pocket.  Just  before 
I  was  goin'  into  my  boat,  after  a  drink  or  two  with 
Jean,  I  'd  been  watchin'  Chocolat  stretched  out  nappin' 
on  the  deck.  I  put  the  meat  alongside  of  his  mouth, 
and  he  ate  it  like  a  shark  does  a  chunk  o'  salt  horse. 
Soon  I  saw  he  was  knocked  out,  an'  I  asked  Moet  to  go 
down  into  the  trade-room  an*  get  me  a  piece  o'  tobacco. 
He  'd  no  sooner  ducked  than  I  grabbed  the  bloody  puiJ 
by  the  scruff  an'  stuffed  him  into  my  trousers'  front. 
He  was  like  dead.  I  was  in  the  boat  in  a  second  with 
no  one  seein'  him,  and  reached  up  to  get  the  tobacco 
from  Moet's  hand. 

"Of  course  the  purp  never  let  out  a  bloomin'  whimper, 
an'  I  got  away  and  to  shore  with  no  proof  that  I  had 
snared  the  bow-wow.  Moet  had  trained  Chocolat  to  let 
out  a  hell  of  a  yell  if  any  one  as  much  as  took  him  to- 
ward the  rail,  and  so  he  would  have  to  think  that  the  cur 
had  fallen  overboard  on  his  own  hook.  I  took  him  to 
my  store  unbeknown  to  any  one,  and  tied  him  to  a  chair. 
He  never  come  to  for  three  hours,  an'  was  sluggery  for 
a  day  or  two.  I  was  waitin'  for  Moet  to  sail,  but  the 
next  day  he  comes  ashore  an'  makes  a  bee-Hne  for  my 
joint.  I  saw  his  boat  puttin'  off,  an'  I  give  Chocolat 
to  my  Penrhyn  boy  who  tied  him  in  a  canoe,  an'  hiked 
out  in  the  lagoon  with  him.  Moet  looks  me  up  an' 
down,  curses  his  sacres  an'  his  Spanish  diablos  an'  Sus 
Marias,  an'  crawled  through  my  place  from  top  to  bot- 
tom, shoutin',  'Chocolat!  Chocolat!  Pettee  sheen!"  an' 
half  cryin'.  He  had  to  trip  his  anchor  the  next  day, 
and  I  had  the  sheen  all  right. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  491 

"I  was  goin'  to  smuggle  him  on  board  Lyin'  BilFs 
cockroach  tub  an'  to  Papeete,  when  one  day  I  come 
back  from  Mapuhi's  and  found  him  gone,  an'  his  string 
chewed  through.  He  had  skinned  out,  an',  though  I 
asked  everybody  on  this  island  about  him,  everybody 
knew  nothin'.  After  three  days  I  give  the  beast  up.  I 
know  the  Kanaka,  an'  I  knew  that  no  fat  little  dogs 
are  let  run  loose  very  long.  About  two  weeks  later, 
I  went  to  another  motu  to  buy  some  copra,  an'  the  first 
native  I  run  into  was  wearin'  Chocolat's  collar  on  his 
arm.  He  was  a  Mormon  churchman,  too,  but  he  swore 
he  found  the  collar  in  a  canoe." 

Poor  little  brown  Chocolat !  He  had  entertained  me 
often  on  the  Flying  Fish  with  his  antics,  and  Jean 
Moet  had  such  dreams  of  his  future!  A  kindly  fate 
may  have  bestowed  on  him  the  favor  of  a  quick  death 
by  hotpotting  rather  than  the  ignominy  of  circus  one- 
night  stands  or  the  pampered  kennel  of  a  milhonaire. 
He  had  had  his  year  at  sea,  and  died  in  the  full  flush 
of  doghood. 

The  news  that  Lutz  was  a  passenger  on  the  Saint 
Francois  with  Mademoiselle  Narbonne  brought  a  pro- 
longed whistle  from  Ducat,  and  an  exclamation  from 
Lying  Bill: 

"Well,  'e  '11  bloody  well  get  'is!  Mana  won't  take  a 
club  to  'im  because  the  'usban'  does  the  beatin'  when 
'e  's  a  Dutchman,  but  she  's  not  lettin'  'im  walk  over  'er 
so  easy.  I  'ad  a  long  palavei^  with  'er  on  the  voyage 
up.  She  says  everybody  in  Taaoa  knows  Barbe  is  a 
leper,  an'  she  's  preparin'  to  'ave  the  bleedin'  Frog  doc- 
tors cage  'er  up  out  there  by  Papenoo,  if  she  goes  to 
Tahiti." 


492  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

"I  never  heard  before  that  she  had  leprosy,"  said 
Ducat.  "I  think  that  Mana  is  spreading  that  report 
to  scare  Lutz." 

"I  feel  sure  that  it  has  not  reached  him,"  I  said. 
"Nobody  in  Atuopa  would  mention  it  to  him." 

Abruptly  there  occurred  to  me  the  cryptic  assertion 
of  Peyral  at  my  first  sight  of  Barbe  in  the  mission 
church. 

"I  would  n't  be  her  with  all  her  money,"  he  had  said. 
"Me,  I  value  my  skin." 

That  was  weeks  or  months  before  Lemoal  had  come 
to  me,  or  I  had  known  of  the  taua,  or  of  Lutz's  court- 
ship. If  there  had  been  a  plot  against  her  happiness,  it 
must  have  been  laid  early,  or  what  did  Peyral  mean? 

McHenry  broke  in  on  my  train  of  reasoning. 

"I  '11  see  that  the  German  sausage  learns  about  it 
damn  soon,"  he  said  spitefully.  "He  's  doin'  too  good 
a  business  in  both  copra  an'  women." 

The  whistle  of  the  Saint  Frarifois  blew  the  recall 
of  boats  and  crew. 

"Why  don't  you  stay,  an'  go  to  Papeet'  with  me," 
asked  Captain  Pincher.  "We  '11  'ead  out  in  a  day  or 
two  when  the  wind  is  right.  You  're  in  no  'urry.  You 
want  to  see  'em  lay  ol'  Mapuhi  in  the  grave." 
'  I  agreed,  and  paddled  to  shore  with  McHenry.  Na- 
tives were  taking  the  last  load  of  copra  out  to  the  steam- 
ship, and  I  rode  on  the  bags  with  McHenry.  On  the 
deck  of  the  Saint  Francois  I  passed  Barbe  and  the 
nuns  on  my  way  below  to  get  my  trifling  belongings. 
McHenry  stayed  above,  and,  when  I  had  bidden  good- 
by  to  the  captain  and  the  first  officer,  I  sought  the  three 
women,  with  my  canvas  bag  in  hand.     The  sisters  were 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  493 

my  friends,  and  I  shook  their  hands.  I  was  about  to 
say  au  revoir  to  Barbe  when  she  walked  with  me  a  few 
yards  to  the  gangway.  I  explained  my  intention  not 
to  continue  on  the  steamship. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  she  implored,  as  she  squeezed  my 
hand  nervously.     "I"  am  afraid  of  everjrthing — " 

The  whistle  sounded  again. 

Lutz,  who  was  talking  with  McHenry,  approached 
me,  and  drew  from  me  my  reason  for  carrying  my  assets 
with  me.  I  thought  he  appeared  relieved  at  my  leav- 
ing, and  that  his  hopes  to  see  me  in  Papeete  were 
shammed.  In  the  boat  I  glanced  up  to  see  Mademoi- 
selle Narbonne  leaning  over  the  rail,  her  black  cloud 
of  hair  framing  her  pale  face  with  its  look  of  sadness 
and  perplexity,  and  her  eyes  still  demanding  of  me  the 
answer  to  her  question. 

"I  bloody  well  put  a  roach  in  Lutz's  ear,"  said  Mc- 
Henry, as  we  rowed  back. 

That  he  had  even  mentioned  Barbe's  name  I  did  not 
believe.  Lutz  would  have  taken  him  by  the  throat,  and 
thrown  him  overboard.  On  the  strand  at  the  atoll 
again,  I  saw  the  smoke  streaming  from  the  steamship's 
funnel  as  she  set  out  for  Papeete;  and  I  sent  an  un- 
spoken message  of  good  will  to  the  groping  ill-matched 
pair  whom  I  could  not  call  lovers,  and  yet  both  of  whom 
were  searching  for  the  satisfaction  of  heart  and  ambition 
I  too  sought. 

Mapuhi  was  interred  that  afternoon  an  hour  before 
sunset.  In  these  atolls  where  there  is  no  soil,  and  where 
water  lies  close  under  the  coral  surface,  even  burial  is 
difficult.  Cyclones  as  in  Hikueru  have  torn  the  coral 
coverings  off  the  graves,  and  swept  the  coffins,  corpses. 


494  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

and  bones  into  the  lagoon  and  the  maws  of  the  sharks 
and  the  voracious  barracuda.  For  Mapuhi  a  marble 
cenotaph  would  be  ordered  in  Tahiti,  and  cover  him 
when  made  in  a  few  weeks. 

Nohea  and  two  elders  dug  the  grave.  About  four 
feet  deep,  it  was  wide  enough  to  rest  the  huge  body  in 
the  glistening  coffin.  This  was  borne  on  the  shoulders 
of  six  young  men,  nephews  of  Mapuhi,  and  in  the  cor- 
tege were  all  of  the  Takaroans  of  age.  Solemnly  and 
silently  they  marched  down  the  road.  All  who  owned 
black  garments  wore  them,  and  others  were  in  white 
trousers,  some  with  and  others  without  shirts,  but  all 
treading  ceremoniously  with  bowed  heads  and  serious 
faces.  Nohea  was  the  leader,  carrying  the  large  Book 
of  Mormon  from  the  temple,  and  at  the  grave  he  read 
from  it  verses  about  the  resurrection,  the  near  approach 
of  the  coming  of  Christ,  and  Mapuhi's  being  quiet  in 
the  grave  until  the  trumpet  rang  for  the  assembling  of 
the  just,  the  unjust  on  opposite  sides  for  judgment. 

"Mapuhi  a  Mapuhi  will  sit  very  close  to  Brigham 
Young  in  the  judgment  and  afterward  will  be  among 
the  great  on  earth  when  the  rejected  are  cast  into  the 
terrible  pit  of  fire,  and  the  elect  live  in  plenty  and  happi- 
ness here." 

The  heavy  ivory  sand  rattled  on  the  wood,  and  the  re- 
mains of  Mapuhi,  last  link  between  the  healthy  savag- 
ery and  the  present  semi-civilization  of  the  Paumotuan 
race,  were  'one  with  the  mysterious  beach  he  had  so  long 
dwelt  upon.  He  had  been  bom  before  the  white  man 
ruled  it,  and  his  life  had  spanned  the  rise  of  the  imperial 
industrialism  which  had  destroyed  the  Polynesian. 

After  the  funeral  I  took  my  bag  to  the  hut  of  Nohea, 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  495 

to  live  the  few  days  until  the  Morning  Star  left  for 
Papeete.  Our  frugal  meal  was  soon  eaten,  and  the  old 
diver  and  I  sat  outside  his  door  in  the  cool  of  the  sun- 
set glow.     We  talked  of  Mapuhi. 

"We  had  the  same  father  but  different  mothers," 
said  Nohea.  "Mapuhi  was  twenty  years  older  than  I. 
For  many  years  he  was  as  my  father  to  me." 

"Where  is  Mapuhi  now?"  I  asked,  to  discover  his  be- 
liefs about  the  soul.  Nohea  trembled,  and  looked  about 
him. 

"Is  he  not  in  the  hole  in  the  coral?"  he  said,  with 
alarm. 

"Oh,  yes,  Nohea,"  I  replied,  "the  body  of  Mapuhi  is 
in  the  coral,  but  where  is  that  part  that  knew  how  to 
dive,  to  steer  the  schooner,  to  grow  rich,  and  to  pray? 
Where  is  that  varua  or  spirit  which  loved  you?" 

Nohea  responded  quickly:  "That  is  with  the  gods, 
with  Adam,  Christ,  Joseph  Smith,  and  Brigham  Young. 
Mapuhi  is  with  them  making  souls  for  the  bodies  of 
Mormon  babies  on  earth.  When  Israel  gathers  by  and 
by,  I  will  see  him  again,  for  we  will  all  live  in  America 
and  be  happy." 

"But  Nohea,"  I  protested,  "you  will  not  be  happy 
away  from  Takaroa.  Your  canoe  and  your  fishing- 
nets  and  spears  will  be  left  behind. 

Nohea  was  confused,  but  his  faith  was  strong. 

"The  elders  have  explained  that  in  America,  where 
all  the  saved  people  shall  live  after  the  judgment,  we 
shall  have  everything  we  want.  The  fish  will  jump  on 
the  hook,  the  canoe  will  paddle  itself,  and  the  cocoanuts 
will  be  always  ready  for  eating  or  cool  for  drinking." 

I  tried  to  draw  our  conversation  around  to  Mapuhi 


496  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

again,  but  Nohea,  as  the  darkness  grew  thicker, 
busied  himself  in  making  a  fire  of  cocoanut  husks  and 
leaves,  and  evaded  any  reference  to  the  dead. 

Only  after  the  moon  began  to  come  up,  he  said,  "I 
must  now  go  to  ke^  watch  at  the  grave  of  Mapuhi.  It 
is  my  duty,  and  I  must  go." 

He  brought  from  his  hut  a  crazy-quilt,  and  wrapped 
it  about  him,  and  with  extreme  hesitancy  walked  away 
through  the  obscurity  to  carry  out  the  obligation  of 
friendship. 

Hardly  can  we  guess  at  the  horror  he  had  to  over- 
come to  do  this.  The  remnant  of  fear  of  the  dead  that 
our  slight  inheritance  of  ancestral  delusions  causes  to 
linger  in  some  of  us  is  the  merest  shadow  of  the  all-per- 
vading terror  that  weakens  the  Paumotuan  at  thought 
of  the  ghost  of  the  defunct  which  stays  near  the  corpse 
to  threaten  and  perhaps  to  seize  and  eat  the  living.  As- 
sociated, maybe,  with  the  former  cannibalism,  when  the 
living  consumed  thje  dead,  Nohea,  though  earnest  Mor- 
mon, believed  that  the  tupapau  hovered  over  the  grave 
or  in  the  tree-tops,  to  accomplish  this  ghastly  purpose. 
Had  Punau,  the  widow  of  Mapuhi,  been  living,  she 
would  have  had  to  spend  her  nights  for  several  weeks 
by  his  sepulcher.  Being  a  chief,  there  were  many  to 
perform  this  devoir,  and  before  I  entered  the  hut  to 
sleep  I  saw  several  small  fires  burning  about  the  spot 
where  the  watchers  cowered  and  whispered  through  the 
night.  Of  the  dangers  of  this  office  of  friendship  or 
widowhood,  every  atoll  in  the  Paumotus  had  a  hundred 
tales,  and  Tahiti  and  the  Marquesas  more.  In  Tahiti, 
the  tupapau,  the  disembodied  and  malign  ego  of  the 
dead,  entered  the  room  where  the  remains  were  laid  out. 


Photo  by  Dr.  Theodore  P.  Cleveland 

Paiimotuans  on  a  heap  of  brain  coral 


fJ    % 


Photo  by  Dr.  Theodore  P.  Cleveland 

Did  these  two  eat  Chocolat? 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  497 

A  frightening  noise  was  heard  in  the  room  or  in  that 
part  of  the  house,  followed  by  sounds  and  movements 
of  a  struggle,  and  in  the  morning  gouts  of  blood  were 
on  the  walls.  In  Moorea,  near  Tahiti.  I  met  an  edu- 
cated ,  Enghshman,  there  twenty-five  years,  who  said 
that  on  analysis  the  blood  proved  to  be  human.  A 
cjmic  in  most  things,  he  would  not  deny  that  he  believed 
the  circumstance  supernatural. 

The  tupapau  had  many  manifestations:  knocks  at 
doors  and  on  thatched  roofs,  cries  of  sorrow  and  of  hate. 
White  it  was  in  the  night,  and  often  hovering  over  the 
house  or  the  grave.  It  might  be  that  the  Ghost  Bird, 
the  burong-hantU;  a  reality  which  is  white,  and  whose 
wings  make  little  or  no  noise  when  flying,  was  the 
foundation  of  this  phantom. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  schooner  Morning  Star  had 
gone  to  Tikei  for  cargo.  Lying  Bill  was  to  anchor  off 
the  pass  of  Takaroa  in  a  few  days  on  his  voyage  to 
Tahiti  and  to  send  ashore  a  boat  for  me.  For  nine 
nights  the  vigil  was  kept  by  the  grave  of  Mapuhi. 
About  four  o'clock  each  morning  the  ward  by  the  grave 
was  abandoned,  and  Nohea  threw  himself  wearily  on 
his  mat  near  me.  Only  one  time,  on  the  last  evening, 
I  questioned  him  about  the  tupapau,  and  then  realized 
my  discourtesy;  it  was  for  him  to  initiate  this  subject. 

"Have  you  heard  or  seen  anything  rima  atua  nia- 
natura?    Anything  by  the  hand  of  the  spirit?" 

Nohea  wrapped  himself  more  tightly  in  his  quilt,  and 
his  answer  came  from  under  it: 

"This  morning  I  heard  a  scratching.  This  is  our 
last  night,  thank  the  gods.  I  think  it  was  the  tupapau 
saying  farewell.    We  never  look  at  the  grave." 


498  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

About  two  the  next  morning  Nohea  shook  me. 

"The  Fetia  Taiao  is  off  the  passage,"  he  said. 

He  had  heard  in  the  still  air  the  faint  slap  of  her  can- 
vas as  she  jibed,  I  thought,  but  that  could  not  have 
been,  as  she  was  too  far  away.  His  awareness  was  not 
of  the  ear  or  eyes,  but  something  different — ^the  keen- 
ness of  the  conscious  and  unconscious,  which  had  pre- 
served the  Paumotuan  race  in  an  environment  which 
had  meant  starvation  and  death  to  any  other  people. 

I  had  my  possessions  already  on  the  schooner,  and, 
forbidding  Nohea  to  wait  with  me  at  the  mole,  I  em- 
braxjed  him  and  left  him.  A  wish  to  look  at  the  grave 
took  hold  of  me,  and  I  walked  along  the  path  to  it. 
The  sun,  though  below  the  horizon,  was  lessening  the 
sombrous  color  of  the  small  hours,  and  I  could  discern 
vaguely  the  outKne  of  the  walled  burial-ground.  The 
splash  of  oars  in  the  water  and  the  rattle  of  rowlocks 
warned  me  of  the  approach  of  the  boat  for  me,  but  I  still 
had  five  minutes. 

I  sat  down  on  the  wall  at  the  farthest  end  away  from 
the  grave.  Soon  I  would  be  in  my  own  country,  among 
the  commonplace  scenes  of  cities  and  countryside.  I 
would  resume  the  habits  and  conventions  of  my  nation, 
and  enter  into  the  struggle  for  survival  and  for  repute. 
Those  goals  shrunk  in  importance  on  this  strip  of  coral. 
Never  would  I  be  able  to  express  in  myself  the  joy  and 
heat  of  life,  and  the  conquest  of  nature  at  its  zenith  of 
mystery,  as  had  the  man  whose  tenement  of  clay  was  so 
near.  Love  had  been  his  animating  emotion.  In  all 
the  welter  of  low  passions,  of  conflicting  religions,  and 
commercial  standards  imported  to  his  island  by  the 
whites,  he  had  remained  a  son  of  the  atoll,  brother  and 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  StJN  499 

father  of  his  tribe,  disdainful  of  the  inventions  and  lux- 
uries offered  him  for  his  wealth,  but  shaping  his  course 
adroitly  for  his  race's  happiness. 

Deep  in  this  strain  of  reflection,  I  was  recalled  to  ac- 
tuality by  a  grating  sound,  a  queer  crunching  and  creak- 
ing. It  came  from  about  the  tomb,  and  was  like  a  hun- 
dred rats  dragging  objects  on  a  stone  floor — slithering 
discordant,  offensive.  If  I  could  have  fainted  it  would 
have  been  relief,  for  I  was  seized  with  mortal  terror. 
I  could  not  reason.  The  boat  from  the  schooner  was 
nearing  fast,  and  would  be  at  the  mole  in  a  minute  or 
two.  I  must  go,  but  I  could  not  move.  Then  suddenly 
a  bar  of  light  flung  up  from  the  sea,  the  first  of  the 
dawn,  and  by  its  feeble  glimmer  I  saw  a  swarm  of  crea- 
tures about  the  barrow.  They  were  the  robber-crabs 
who  had  come  out  from  the  groves,  and  they  were  pull- 
ing the  pieces  of  coral  off  the  burial  heap,  and  digging 
to  pierce  the  coffin.  Scores  of  the  grisly  vampires 
were  working  with  their  huge  claws  at  the  pile,  and,  as 
they  rushed  to  and  fro  on  their  tall,  obscene  legs,  they 
were  the  very  like  of  ghouls  in  animal  form.  This  was 
the  "scratching"  Nohea  had  heard  when  with  their 
back  to  the  grave  he  and  his  fellow-watchers  dared  not 
turn  to  see  them. 

I  should  have  thrown  rocks  at  the  foul  monsters, 
have  scattered  them  with  kicks  and  curses,  but  my  de- 
liverance from  the  supernatural  was  so  comforting  I 
could  only  burst  into  nervous  laughter  and  run  down 
the  road  to  the  mole.  I  leaped  into  the  boat,  and  gave 
the  order  to  shove  off*.  In  half  an  hour  I  was  aboard 
the  Morning  Star  and  our  sails  spread  for  Tahiti  and 
California. 


600  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 


AFTERWARD 

A  Letter  feom  Exploding  Eggs 

Atuona,  Hiva-Oa,  Aperiri,  1922. 

O  Nakohu. 

O  au  Kaoha  tuuhoa  Koakoau  itave  tekao  ipatumai 
to  Brunnec ;  Na  Bninnec  paki  mai  iau,  tuu  onotia  Kao- 
ha oko  au  iave;  Atahi  au  ame  tao  ave  oe  itiki  iau  Aua 
oto  maimai  omua  ahee  taua  I  Menike  ua  ite  au  Ta 
Panama  ohia  umetao  au  ua  hokotia  au  eoe  Ite  aoe. 

Mea  meitai  ote  mahina  ehee  mai  oe  I  Tahiti  ahaka  ite 
mai  oe  iau  Eavei  tau  I  Tahiti  etahi  Otaua  fiti  tia  mai 
mei  Tahiti  Ta  maimai  oe  eavei  tau  I  Tahiti  Patu  mai 
oe  it  atahi  hamani  nau  naete  inoa  Brunnec. 

Eahaa  iapati  mai  oe  ukoana  iau  totaua  pae  ua  pao 
tuu  tekao  iave  Kaoha  oe  iti  haa  metaino  iau  tihe  ite 
nei  mouehua  Upeau  oe  iau  eiva  ehua  ua  Vei  hakaua 
taua  oia  tau  ete  taiene  ohua  iva  ehua. 

Kaoha  nui  I  Obriand. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  501 


Feom  Exploding  Eggs 

Atuona,  Hiva-Oa,  April,  1922. 

It  is  I,  Nakohu,  always,  my  dear  master.  I  have 
been  very  glad  to  receive  news  of  you  by  Le  Brunnec, 
and  I  have  seen  that  you  have  not  forgotten  me. 

It  has  given  me  much  sorrow  that  I  did  not  go  with 
you.  I  should  have  seen  Panama  and  many  things, 
but  I  was  afraid  that  you  would  grow  tired  of  me  and 
sell  me  to  other  Americans. 

If  it  is  true  that  you  will  return  here,  write  to  me  in 
advance  by  Le  Brunnec,  and  I  will  go  to  get  you  in 
Papeete.  For  your  stay  in  Atuona,  fear  nothing.  I 
have  now  a  nice  house  of  my  own  on  the  edge  of  the 
river.  There  you  will  live  and  it  will  be  my  wife  who 
will  do  the  cooking  and  I  will  go  to  get  the  food  for 
all  of  us;  that  will  be  much  better  than  before. 

I  am  very  happy  that  you  have  not  forgotten  me  in 
so  long.  It  is  true  that  you  had  told  me  that  you  would 
come  back  before  nine  years.     I  shall  wait  always. 

Love  to  you,  Obriand. 


502  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 


Letter  peom  Malicious  Gossip 

Atuona,  Hiva-Oa,  lunio,  1915. 
Etuuonahoa: 

U  Koana  i  au  taoe  hama  ni,  koakoa  oko  au  i  te  ite  i 
ta  oe  tau  te  kao.  A  oe  e  koe  te  peau  o  Mohotu  Vehine 
hae,  i  te  a  te  tekao,  mimi,  pake,  namu,  Tahiatini,  aoe  i 
koe  tola,  ate,  totahi  teoko,  tohutohui  tola  hee,  mehe 
ihepe  Purutia  i  tihe  mai  nei  io  matou.  Titihuti,  na 
mate  ite  hitoto.  Te  moi  a  Kake  ua  mate  ite  hitoto,  i 
tepo  na  mate,  titahi,  popoui  ua  mate,  tatahi,  popoui  ua 
mate,  titahi,  popoui  ua  mate,  te  moupuna  o  Titihuti. 
U  fanau  au  i  te  tama  e  moi  o  (Elizabethe  Taavaupoo) 
toia  inoa  pahoe  kanahau  tautau  oko,  aoe  e  hoa  e  koe  to 
mana  metao  ia  oe,  ua  inu  matou  i  te  kava  kona  oko 
Bronec,  kona  oko  Tahiapii,  kona  oko  au,  ia  tihe  to  matou 
metao  ia  oe,  ua  too  matou  i  te  pora  Kava  a  la  sante;  te 
Freterick.  Ena  ua  tuu  atu  nei  i  te  ata  na  oe,  upeau  au 
ia  ia  Lemoine  a  tuu  mai  te  ata  na  Freterick.  Mea  nui 
tau  roti  i  tenei  u  fafati  au  e  ua,  roti  ua  tuu  i  una  ou,  mea 
Kaoha  ia  oe,  me  ta  oe  vehine.  Kaoha  atu  nei  A  poro 
me  Puhei  ia  oe,  Kaoha  atu  nei  Moetai  kamuta  ia  oe. 
Kaoha  atu  nei  Nakohu. 

Kaoha  atu  nei  Timoia  oe,  Kaoha  nui  Kaoha  nui  Ua 
pao  tete  kao. 

Apae,  umoi  e  koe  tooe  metao  ia  matou. 

Nau  na  tooe  hoa. 

Tavahi. 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  503 

Atuona,  Hiva-Oa,  June,  1915. 
Ah  my  dear  friend: 

I  have  received  your  letter.  I  was  very  happy  to 
have  news  of  you. 

Ghost  Girl  has  not  forgotten  and  still  says,  "Dance, 
tobacco,  rum." 

Many  Daughters  is  not  over  her  sickness;  she  is 
worse;  when  she  walks  she  rolls  hke  the  Prussian  ship 
that  came  here. 

Titihuti  died  of  dysentery.  The  little  daughter  of 
Kake  died  of  dysentery.  The  one  died  in  the  evening, 
Titihuti;  in  the  morning  the  little  girl  of  Titihuti  died. 
I  have  given  birth  to  a  little  daughter;  her  name  is 
EHzabeth  Taavaupoo,  a  pretty  little  girl,  healthy  and 
plump. 

We  have  not  stopped  thinking  of  you,  dear  friend. 
We  drank  kava.  Happy  was  Le  Brunnec,  happy  was 
Tahiapii  (sister  of  Tavati,  the  little  woman  in  blue). 
I  too  was  happy.     Our  thoughts  went  out  to  you. 

We  took  the  bowl  of  kava  and  drank  to  the  health  of 
Frederick.  Here  I  send  you  as  a  present  my  picture. 
I  told  Le  Moine  to  take  my  photograph  for  you. 

I  have  many  roses  now;  I  took  two  of  them  which  I 
put  on  my  head  as  a  souvenir  for  you  and  your  lady. 
In  this  letter  you  have  the  love  of  Aporo  and  Puhei, 
of  Moetai,  the  carpenter,  and  of  Nakohu  and  of 
Timoteo. 

Great  love  to  you ;  great  love  to  you. 

I  have  finished  speaking;  farewell,  and  may  you  not 
forget  us  in  your  thoughts. 

I,  your  friend, 

Malicious  Gossip. 


504  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 


Letter  from  Mouth  of  God 

E  tuu  ona  hoa: 

E  patu  atu  nei  au  i  tenei  hamani  ia  oe  me  tou  Kaoha 
nui.  Mea  meitai  matou  paotu.  E  tiai  nei  au  i  taoe 
hamani,  me  te  Kakano  pua,  me  te  mana  roti,  u  haa  mei 
— tai  au  i  titahi  keke  fenua  kei  oko,  mea  tanu  roti.  Eia 
titahi  mea  ace  au  e  kokoa  koe  nui  oe  i  kokoa  koe  nui 
oe  i  kaoha  mai  ian  Koakoa  oko  nui  matou  i  taoe  hamani 
A  patu  oe  i  titahi  hamani  i  tooe  hoa,  o  Vai  Etienn  ena 
ioto  ote  Ami  Koakoa,  Apatu  oe  ia  Vehine  hae  ena  i  tohe 
ahi,  o  te  haraiipe. 

E  na  Tahiatini  i  Tarani  me  L'Hermier,  Mea  meitai 
a  fiti  mai  oe  i  Atuona  nei  Kanahau  oko  to  matou  fenua 
me  he  fenua  Farani  meitaioko  tu  uapu  O  Hinatini  ena 
ioto  ote  papu  meitai  Kaoha  atu  nei  tooe  hoa  Timo  ia 
oe,  u  tuhaa  ia  mei  a  oe,  e  aha  a,  ave  oe  i  tuhaa  meia  ia. 

E  metao  anatu  ia  ia  oe.  Kaoha  atu  nei  Kivi  ia  oe, 
E  hee  anatu  i  te  ika  hake  Ua  pao  te  tekao  ^aoha  nui. 

Tavahi  T,  Mm.  Timotheo. 


i<m  ii< 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  505 


Ah  my  dear  friend: 

I  write  you  this  letter  to  send  you  my  good  wishes. 
We  are  all  well.  I  have  awaited  in  vain  a  letter  from 
you  with  the  flower  seeds  you  promised  me.  I  have 
inherited  a  very  large  piece  of  land  where  I  could  plant 
roses. 

We  have  been  very  sorry  that  you  have  not  given  us 
more  of  your  news.     We  have  missed  you  much. 

If  you  wish  to  write  to  your  friend  Vai  Etienne,  he 
is  in  heaven  far  away. 

As  for  Ghost  Girl,  she  must  have  fallen  into  hell. 

Many  Daughters'  soul  must  have  rejoined  THermier 
in  France. 

You  would  do  well  to  return  to  Atuona.  Our  land 
is  very  beautiful — our  roads  like  those  in  France. 

Vanquished  Often  is  dead,  but  she  must  be  in  para- 
dise. 

Your  friend,  Timoteo,  sends  you  greeting.  If  you 
have  forgotten  him,  he  has  not  forgotten  you.  Come 
back  and  we  will  again  drink  the  kava  together. 

Kivi  tells  me  that  he  still  thinks  of  you  and  that  he 
still  goes  fishing. 

It  is  finished. 

Kaoha  nui,  Mouth  of  God. 


506  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 


Letter  feom  Le  Brunnec  to  Frederick  O'Brien  at 

Sausalito,  California. 

(Translation.) 

Atuona,  Hiva-Oa,  June,  1922. 
Cher  ami : 

You  ask  me  what  has  become  of  Barbe  Narbonne, 
of  the  valley  of  Taaoa.  I  will  tell  you  briefly,  and 
probably  some  of  what  I  shall  say  you  already  know. 
She  was  married  to  Wilhelm  Lutz,  the  Tahauku  trader, 
in  Tahiti,  and  all  went  well.  Her  mother  was  at  the 
wedding,  but  not  Mana,  his  long-time  companion  in 
Taiohae  and  Atuona.  The  married  pair  occupied  the 
upper  floor  of  the  German  firm's  big  store.  There  was 
much  gaiety  among  the  Germans  and  her  Tahitian 
friends.  For  the  first  time  Barbe  rode  in  an  automo- 
bile, saw  a  moving  picture,  heard  a  band  of  music,  and 
attended  prize-fights.  They  were  married  at  the  first 
of  July,  and  on  the  fourteenth  was  celebrated  the  Fall 
of  the  Bastille,  with  tremendous  hulas,  much  champagne, 
and  speeches  by  the  governor,  and  even  by  the  friendly 
Germans,  such  as  Monsieur  Lutz. 

Helas!  The  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau,  the  kaiser's 
cruisers,  came  here  to  Atuona,  robbed  my  store,  took 
Jensen,  the  Dane,  and  steamed  to  Tahiti.  When  the 
authorities  there  saw  them,  they  must  fire  a  pop-gun  at 
them,  and  provoke  in  turn  a  rain  of  six-inch  shells.  A 
Chinese  was  killed,  every  one  ran  to  the  woods,  and 
many  stores  were  set  on  fire  and  burned. 

When  the  cruisers  were  gone.  Monsieur  Lutz  and  all 


ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN  507 

the  Germans  were  imprisoned  on  Motu-Uta,  the  beauti- 
ful little  islet  a  thousand  feet  from  Lovaina's  Annexe 
Hotel.  Madame  Lutz  was  reproached  by  the  church, 
the  government,  and  by  every  one  not  in  prison,  for 
marrying  the  "animal"  Lutz,  and  immediately  they  be- 
gan to  give  her  a  divorce  on  that  very  ground — ^that  the 
husband  was  a  German,  and  therefore  not  a  human  be- 
ing, but  an  animal.  It  did  not  take  long,  and  again 
she  was  Mademoiselle  Narbonne. 

Now  she  was  free,  rich,  and  in  civilization.  She 
danced  and  sang  and  was  dressed  in  your  American 
clothes,  for  no  ships  came  from  France.  But,  as  in 
Atuona,  rumors  began  that  she  was  leprous.  That  did 
not  matter  much  to  the  Tahitians  who,  if  they  like  one, 
care  nothing  for  what  one  has,  but  the  whites  ceased  to 
be  in  her  company.  They  did  not  say  aloud  what  they 
thought,  but  only  that  she  had  loved  a  German. 

Mana  went  every  day  of  good  weather  in  a  little 
canoe  about  the  islet  of  Motu-Uta,  at  a  certain  dis- 
tance prescribed  by  the  guards,  and  made  a  gesture  to 
Monsieur  Lutz,  who  sat  or  stood  within  an  enclosure 
and  looked  out  to  sea.  Poor  Lutz!  He  died  of  an 
aneurism,  or,  if  you  will,  of  a  broken  Prussian  heart. 

Mademoiselle  Narbonne  one  day  went  toward  Pape- 
noo.  At  Faaripoo  she  saw  the  inclosure  of  the  lepro- 
sarium, where  the  three  or  four  score  lepers  are  con- 
fined.    She  returned  to  the  Marquesas  Islands. 

Pauvre  file!  Personne  n*a  voulu  se  marier  avec  elle 
et  elle  vit  avec  un  vieux  Canaque  de  Taaoa.  Elle  est 
retoumee  a  la  hrousse — Poor  girl!  Nobody  wants  to 
marry  her  and  she  lives  with  an  old  Kanaka  of  Taaoa. 
She  has  returned  to  the  jungle. 


508  ATOLLS  OF  THE  SUN 

I  will  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  no  matter  what  Le- 
moal  has  said,  or  her  own  fears,  Mademoiselle  Nar- 
bonne  is  not  a  leper.  But  the  sorcery  of  the  taua  has 
ended  her.  These  Marquesans,  even  if  half  white,  are 
yet  heathen.  i 

Daughter  of  the  Pigeon  is  dead  of  tuberculosis. 
Ghost  Girl  died  of  influenza  in  Tahiti,  where  she  had 
gone  to  continue  her  joyous  life.  Peyral  and  his  white 
daughters  have  fled  to  France.  Exploding  Eggs  has 
taken  the  daughter  of  Titihuti;  and  her  husband,  from 
whom  he  seized  her,  is  content  to  live  with  them.  Gov- 
ernor L'Hermier  des  Plantes  is  governor  of  the  Congo. 
Song  of  the  Nightingale  is  in  prison  for  making  cocoa- 
nut  rum.  Seventh  Man  Who  Is  So  Angry  has  lost  his 
wife  of  tuberculosis.  Vanquished  Often  died  of  leprosy 
in  childbirth.  Le  Moine,  the  artist,  went  mad  and  is 
dead.  Grelet,  the  Swiss,  is  dead.  P^re  David,  Pere 
Simeon,  Pere  Victorin,  are  well,  as  all  the  nuns.  Jim- 
my Kekela  is  well;  his  sister  is  shut  up  in  a  leper  hos- 
pital. McHenry  has  been  expelled  from  Tahiti  for  sell- 
ing alcoholic  liquors  to  the  natives  of  the  Paumotus. 
Lemoal  is  dead.  Hemeury  Francois  and  Scallamera 
are  dead.  Vai  Etienne,  son  of  Titihuti,  is  dead.  Com- 
missaire  Bauda  went  to  the  wars. 

I  have  named  my  second  child  after  you,  Frederick. 
You  remember  her  mother.  At  Peace,  the  sister  of  Mali- 
cious Gossip.  We  dwell  in  comfort  and  happiness. 
Return  to  live  with  us. 

Votre  devoue 

Le  Bexjnnec. 


B 


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ART  LIBRAFJY 


BPr-n  iD-imi 
«.OCTo6  1997 

mm 


APR  D  4  2000 

SHLF 
QL  APR  15  iggBUARTER  LOAI 


REC'O  LD-l)RL 
APR26199B 


Mii 


